Master of the House
by WonderfulCaricature
Summary: "I put on one of Grantaire's ridiculous outfits and stuffed my hair into my hat before setting out to explore...sure, they were holding me 'captive', but they didn't really expect me to stay in while everyone else was out, did they?" E/E
1. Montparnasse

**Hey! This is my first Les Miserables story, so if you like it don't be shy! Reviews, alerts, and favorites keep the author from kicking herself for writing something no one likes...**

**For the sake of this story, Eponine was born in 1811 and Azelma in 1812**

**Oh, Ramin Karimloo is Enjolras; Samantha Barks is Eponine; Ray Stevenson (in The Dwelling Place) is Montparnasse; and Hadley Fraser is Grantaire. **

**Disclaimer: I wish I could take credit, but I can't.**

_22 December 1830_

I tried pretending like I was doing some sort of work while I watched the auction going on in the next room; but after five minutes or so I was just dabbing at nothing on the bar. My heart was pounding as if I had been running for the past hour. I was nervous? I can't even remember ever being as nervous. It was silly, really. But I had grown accustom to the way things had been playing out for the past few months. The idea that it could be interrupted because of one person was unnerving. Mama had even stopped her sweeping to watch what was going down. We weren't use to more than two people being in that room with my father. Maybe the newcomer had brought a hefty load of change with him. I can't think of any other reason why father would have favored him coming in over some of the other regulars that come in and out of this damned place. I sent mama a glance. She had set the broom against the wall and watched the four men with her hands on her hips. Would she let father be swayed so easily by some fresh meat? No. Mama wouldn't let him do that. Unless...unless the money was too great to argue about. Father's greed would outweigh his loyalty to those who've paid his dues in the past.

"Mama." I whispered.

"Hush!" She waved me off as she inched closer to the room.

Montparnasse sat between the two other men. His wildly unkempt hair distinguished him from the other two. The one two his left was a burly, bald man. I wouldn't be surprised if he looked remarkably similar to father. He was probably the same one who comes in here every Wednesday but always gets out bid by Montparnasse. The one on his right was the newcomer, obviously. His red hair was brighter than mama's, and he was probably a good five inches taller than father. I could only imagine what he looked like. Hideous probably. 'Parnasse looked over his shoulder at where mama was leaning and casually turned his attention back to what the men were discussing. Really, he was such a fidgety man that it was a wonder how he had even ended up becoming associated with my father in the first place. I suppose he was just as great as acting as he was at lying. The bald man slammed his fist against the table father used as a desk and stood quickly. Mama left the threshold and hurried to pick up the sweeping where she left off. I stared at the man. He had a scowl on his face as he stormed from the room. I can't say I wasn't happy that Montparnasse had beaten him out for the past few months. I looked down at the bar when he caught my gaze. He was barbaric.

My heart skipped a beat when I saw father's eyes grow wide. What did this mean? He was never caught off guard. When I whispered for mama again she fixed me with a cold glare as she tried listening in on what was happening. Please, it's not like she was finding anything out. I looked back to the three left in the room. They were standing up and father was shaking hands with the stranger. Oh no. Please, God, please don't let it be. I wiped my hands off with the rag as father lead the other two towards the bar. Why I was I this nervous? Absolutely ridiculous. It wasn't like I hadn't been with other rats before. What was one more? So it messed up the routine I had mapped out for Wednesday nights. It was one day. Montparnasse could just buy me out for the next day. I watched carefully as the red headed man followed behind father. Neither of them gave any indication of how the meeting went.

"Eponine, get this man the best we have." Father exclaimed. Montparnasse looked ill. "Then walk 'Parnasse home." He added, slapping the poor man on the back. I almost sighed in relief.

"You really had me worried there." I hissed once the door shut behind 'Parnasse and me. "Who was that rat anyway?"

"Some Englishmen on his way through town." He said distractedly. "Look, Eponine-"

"Good." I cut him off. "I'll be damned if he screws up my Wednesdays."

The two of us walked in silent, taking the back alleys, of course, as we made our way towards the Cafe Musain. Back in June of last year Montparnasse started coming around the Inn more and more often, hanging around my father and breathing down my neck. No one really paid much attention to him. He was just some dumb drunk who stayed around the Inn because of the Thenardier's two pretty daughters, just like everyone else. Montparnasse didn't become a paying customer until mid-August. Mostly because the other greasers pestered him and asked him crude things to which he had to make something up, and I was forced into trying whatever dark thought had come to his pea-sized brain. I'll never forgive him for that. But at the beginning of October we fell into our routine. I can't remember the last time I fooled around with 'Parnasse. Wednesdays. The only day of the week I was able to look forward to. His oblivious father came with a pouch of money for the street rat on Tuesday nights. Half of it paid his dues and the other half for me. Not that his father was aware of this.

Don't let me fool you, though. Monsieur Montparnasse was hardly the Good Samaritan he comes across.

"Eponine-" He said as we stood in the alley across from the cafe.

"I'll see you when I get out."

"'Ponine-"

"Try not to leave me searching for you again." I said sternly. Idiot had me wandering about Paris an hour past curfew.

"Eponine!" He hissed, grabbing a fistful of my hair and yanking me towards him, preventing me from going anywhere. I gasped and clutched at his arm, desperately trying to dig my nails as deep as they would go. I knew my father was bound to rub off on him. Dirty, filthy scum. Who could you trust? His mask was too good to be true. "My father's cutting me off."

I stopped clawing, "What?" I whispered as he let my hair go. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Joly and Combeferre walk into the cafe. "Why?"

"He's putting things together, Eponine." His voice got even lower. "For you, your father is charging double what my rent is! I can't afford a home and a hobby. I'm sorry. Maybe you can get Saturday to take you on Wednesday, too. You said he's fairly soft on you, yeah?"

"That's not the point, 'Parnasse!" I growled. "I need Wednesdays with you." I cupped his face. He had to see how much his money meant to me!

"I only have enough to spare maybe two more weeks as long as Bedeaux is the only one coming in asking for you."

"Move! You don't use half the floor in your home. Downgrade!"

"I'm moving back to my parent's. Besides, I wouldn't move into a little garret just so you can keep a secret from your father."

"Why? I'm keeping a secret for you."

I know I shouldn't have slapped him, but I couldn't help it. He struck me first. Not that I didn't deserve a little bit of it for the slip of my tongue. But he was going to be leaving Paris, and I'd have to crawl out of someone else's bed in the middle of the night. I was angry, panicking, and a little sad, so I smacked him right across the face. No man, rat or rich, can stand that. To be hit by someone who will always be below them. Montparnasse back handed me before slamming me into the brick building behind us, knocking the wind nearly out of me. His right arm was pressed firmly across my chest, keeping me from running into the cafe like I so wanted to. My stomach leapt into my throat when I heard his knife being drawn from its place on his hip, I didn't need to see it to know where it was going. In an instant I felt the cool metal against my neck. God, 'Parnasse, think of what you're doing. Joly or Combeferre most certainly saw you and I standing out here, you fool. And if not them, Marius knew about us. Someone would realize I was missing. Right? My heart beat sped up. Right?

Montparnasse threw me to the ground, giving me a good kick in the stomach that caused me to lose whatever meager scraps that had been in there. I should have fought back. I should have fought him. I could have kicked his ass, no doubt. But dying would be so much easier, right? I wouldn't have to go back to the Inn. I wouldn't have to watch Monsieur Marius trip over himself as he fantasized about every other girl but me. I could handle being dead. Really, I'd be doing everyone a favor. Mama could give Azelma my rations so the girl wasn't crying from her hunger every night. Yes, that would shut her up long enough for her to get some sleep. 'Parnasse wouldn't have to leave his home, and his father would start giving him money again. It was just better this way. And I could keep some sense of the dignity I had left. Mama had always said that I would be screwed to death. A rough beating was somehow so much preferable.

The beating stopped, though.

"I'll be back for you later." Montparnasse seethed, straightening his jacket.

He was gone just as quickly as his rage had come. I cried after him. Why couldn't he have just killed me? I hacked harshly as I laid there. Maybe if I just stayed there the rats would eventually kill me. Of course, God wasn't nice enough to let Montparnasse kill me; he wasn't going to be nice enough to let the rats get me.

"Boy!"

It was Grantaire. I would recognize that drunk's voice in a crowd.

"Leave me be." I grunted.

"Thenardier?" I heard him come closer. "What are you doing down there?"

"Dying." I muttered, blinking away the tears that wanted to fall.

"Oh." He said. "You want a drink before you go?"

I smacked Grantaire's hand away when he tried helping me up after I agreed. I was beaten, not weak. I could stand up on my own, and I could walk myself across the damn street! Grantaire walked slowly with me. We were late for the meeting. Not that anyone would be surprised if Grantaire walked into the meeting halfway through. I'm sure most of them would be expecting it. But me? Ever since 'Parnasse started buying me out, I'd been there every Wednesday at the same time, sitting at the same little table as Marius. What would they think if I walked in late with Grantaire with a red mark against my face and a limp in my step? Oh, God! What would Marius think? What if he blew it off as another rough day on the streets? Surely he'd care a little, right? After all, he knew all about what Montparnasse and I had been up to for the past months. I breathed in and out deeply. Get a hold of yourself, Thenardier. I mumbled a barely audible thank you as the drunk held the door open for me. Maybe people would think he had saved me from a fight. Then they'd think I was incapable of taking care of myself if a drunk like him had to be my knight in shining cotton. I rolled my eyes. What did I care anyway? Let them think what they wanted. They were a bunch of good for nothing rebels. This _revolution_ would kill them before they could even see it coming.

"Lavigne, a tab for the night." Grantaire smiled widely as he announced his intent to stay for most of the night. "Two ales to start." He said before adding to me, "Do you like ale?"

"It's okay." I lied. I smell it on the men I'm with every other night; I really didn't feel like I needed to actually drink it.

I sipped from the mug Lavigne put in front of me and grimaced. Blood and ale. Grantaire always rants about them, but I doubt he's ever had to experience them in the same sitting. He was a pretty, rich boy. He probably never had to lift a finger a day in his life. Everything had been handed to him, I bet. Mama would have said he'd been born with a silver spoon in his mouth. The pouch of coins he always carried with him told me she wasn't wrong.

"I really should be getting to-"

"Who was he?"

"What?" I hissed.

"Don't tell me you beat yourself." He laughed. "I may be drunk, but I'm not daft." His smile wavered a bit.

"I don't need to explain things to you, Monsieur." I bit rudely. "Excuse me, I really need to-"

"Montparnasse, I bet."

"Shut up, Grantaire." I snapped.

"Come on, it's no secret." He took a long drink from his mug. "We all see him walking you here before and waiting for you after. Marius has already told us he's your Wednesday nights." My mouth opened but nothing came out. Marius told them? Marius told them what I had confided in him about? I felt a pang deep in my gut that had nothing to do with the beating. "Does your father know you're coming to these? Is that what's going on? You come to these meetings and Montparnasse knows about it, but you're buying his silence with your...services?" Grantaire let out a noise that was most likely a giggle.

"It's nothing like that." I dumped whatever was left in my mug onto his lap and then took off for the back room. He was a sick bastard. Perpetually drunk or not, he ought to know better about what he allows out of that dirty mouth of his.

The man Enjolras, whom Marius was so fond of, was deep into an animated speech when I tried slipping in. Usually the boys were all riled up, shouting in agreement, spitting out lines of speeches they themselves had memorized. Today, though, it was an 'Enjolras says something, and they're mesmerized' day, making my tardy appearance all the more obvious. I ducked into the far corner, trying my best to fade into the background. It didn't take much effort. Enjolras was so caught up in whatever he was saying that he couldn't care much about a street rat sitting in the corner, and everyone else only needed to affirm it was me before being sucked up into their leader's ramblings. What did these guys know about the people anyway? They were just like Grantaire. The hardest challenge in their life had been choosing which university to attend. The people, though? The people were faced with starvation, prostitution, dehydration, and simply finding a place to sleep at night. These fools would never have to worry about that. They wouldn't have to worry about not being able to go home if they didn't meet a quota. Why weren't they walking in our shoes before preaching on our behalf? That's all these brats were anyway: preachers. They talked the good talk, but none of them would dare to be the change that they clung so heavily to.

Grantaire, wet pants and all, managed to walk in when the lot of them were cheering at the empty ended words. He raised his mug in cheer with them, gave me a smirk, and plopped down to the left of Marius and the right of another empty spot where Joly usually sat, but he was up in the spot where Bahorel sat every time I've been there. I tried practicing my breathing as the meeting wore on. It was fine at first. I had managed to take quite a few breaths without feeling like my lungs were going to fail me. But then I'd think of having to spend the next few hours either in search of Montparnasse or with him, and my heart would start racing, putting me in an almost panic like state. My injuries were making me crazy. I shouldn't have been afraid of 'Parnasse. He was a twitchy little man, after all. I could lay him flat with one punch. He caught me in a moment of weakness. He caught me when I wanted to die. It wouldn't happen again. Right? Never in the months that I'd been with him had he ever been rough to the point where I feared him. A little roughing up was nearly a part of the job description really. Father wouldn't think I had a good night if I didn't have a bruise or a scrape here or there.

I elbowed my way through the guys to get to Marius. One of them got me back, playfully albeit, but it caused me to nearly double over in pain. I shied away from him quickly, though and found Marius over with Courfeyrac and Joly.

"Messieurs." I grinned.

"'Ponine, what happened?"

My heart fluttered and my skin melted when Marius touched my face. If getting beaten was all it took to get his attention...

"It's nothing." I waved my hand dismissively. "Really, I'm lucky all it was was a smack. I had it coming." Well, I wasn't lying completely. I glanced around the room. Grantaire was over in the front with Enjolras, the two were bickering over something. As long as the oaf was far enough away from me I didn't really what he was doing.

"I could check it out for you, if you want." Joly offered.

"Thank you, Monsieur, but it's nothing, honest."

"Eponine," Marius walked me towards the door a little while later after the majority of the room had dispersed, leaving me alone with Marius and two others I didn't know well. His hand was on my arm. It was like heaven. I was sure of it. "Have you seen that girl from the market at all? I've been meaning to write to her, but I never know what to say." No, Hell. Definitely Hell.

When I caught a glimpse of 'Parnasse waiting in the alley where he had left me I didn't know whether I was relieved or not about it. He was saving me from having to endure a long, one-sided conversation about the gift from God that is the girl from the market. And I'm sure that he had cooled off after earlier. He had a quick temper, but it was easy to blow out. I'm sure whatever back alley bum he found after me had suffered worse anyway. I'd rather stick with Montparnasse. I wouldn't have to hear a damn word about that dark-haired angel with "eyes the color of the sea". I bid Marius good-bye and straightened my cap before heading out in the dark.

"Thenardier." Grantaire nodded to me as I walked out of the cafe. He stood, smoking something similar to what my father does, just outside the door telling Enjolras he'd see him later. I looked at the drunk stiffly, throwing the two a quick good night, before heading over to 'Parnasse.

"Took you long enough." Montparnasse sneered. Apparently his temper hadn't fizzled.

"Well, if you hadn't been so careless with your hand the school boys wouldn't have been worried."

"Isn't that sweet." He rolled his eyes.

"You know that they're all critical of anyone who-"

"Ai, Thenardier!" Grantaire called, crossing the street.

"Oh, God in heaven..." I hissed and rolled my eyes.

"Monsieur," The drunk bowed to Montparnasse, taking him a little by surprise. "I do apologize for interrupting, but see, I bought a drink for 'Ponine here, and well, as you can see," He motioned to his pants. "I expect repayment."

"What?" 'Parnasse and I quipped together.

"These are very expensive pants. It only seems fair."

"You're going to take 'Ponine in exchange for your pants?" I'm glad I wasn't the only one who found Grantaire incredulous.

"Like I said, they were expensive." He repeated. "I'll pay you for her."

"Buy a new pair of pants!" I snapped.

"Hush, woman. Let the men work."

"Montparnasse! You can't be serious!" I barked as Grantaire told him he could have the rest of the money in his pouch. A wide grin spread over 'Parnasse's dumb face as he saw the coins in it. "You greedy bastard!" I shoved him, but Grantaire grabbed me by the waist. "Bastard!" I let out another cry of pain, of rage, of expression. I couldn't believe that dirty rat!

"If you bite her she purrs." 'Parnasse said before taking the pouch and running.

I stared after him, wide-eyed. Really? He was going to leave me with a drunk for some spare change? I had so much on him, I could ruin him! And he wanted to play this with me? I yanked my arm out of Grantaire's grasp and made an attempt to run for it, but the drunk caught me by the belt. I let out another cry of pain and hurled. Maybe 'Parnasse had gotten a rib or two when he beat me. I was kind of just hoping it was nothing more than bruised. I turned my anger out on the drunk behind me, though. I spat at him, kicked his shins, shoved him, and even went for a punch. But I was seriously restricted, and he was quite agile for someone who was too drunk to talk sometimes.

"Stop it," Grantaire grabbed my hands as I slapped and shoved his chest. "I'm going to need all my strength to fend off Enjolras when he finds out I brought a street rat home."

**So...is it review worthy? You'd make me the happiest girl in the world if you reviewed:)**

**Happy Reviewing;)**


	2. Elle

**Thank you for everyone who read/reviewed/alerted/and favorited! Means the world to me(:**

**Disclaimer: I own a BlackBerry.**

_23 December 1830_

I sat on the edge of Grantaire's bed as hints of the sun were beginning to peak over the horizon. I should have left hours ago when Grantaire fell asleep on the couch in their parlor. Enjolras would be waking any moment now and swinging by Joly's place to pick up Marius for morning lessons. Besides, my father would be hunting down Montparnasse, the fool, and drilling him on why I was kept so long when I had so much to do at the Inn. My stomach dropped to the floor. What would 'Parnasse tell him? I didn't care all that much for Grantaire or Enjolras, but I definitely didn't want them to be on my father's list. He would track and wring them out until the only thing left in this flat of their was the boards that held it together. What would Marius think of me then? I would be the reason his friends had suffered such a tramatic experience. Making my mind up, I stood and left the cold rags Grantaire had given me for my bruises by the window. I could just tell my father that I had passed out in some alley somewhere and woke when I heard the gendarmes chasing after another street rat. He would believe it and probably would grow even a little fonder of Montparnasse; enough to hopefully be a little more sensible with my costs. Just for 'Parnasse, though. Yes, that's exactly what I'd tell him. I sighed a little, content with my lie, before pressing Grantaire's squeaky door open enough fore me to just barely squeeze out.

The flat was still, aside from the drunk's obnoxious snores coming from the parlor. This was good. Just like any other place I had snuck into and had to leave from. There was no difference. I didn't belong in there, and I didn't belong in here. I walked carefully and quietly from Grantaire's room to the parlor. Enjolras's door was still shut as it had been last night when the drunk clumsily lead me to his room with a pail of cold water and numerous rags. He had made some stupid comment about this being the first time I'd be sleeping alone in a man's bed, so I kicked him. After I passed his door, my steps grew more confident, and I could feel myself growing more eager to leave this damned flat. How could anyone who claimed to be upset by the impoverished lives of the people live in such a high class flat like this? Just one of their chairs could clothe everyone I knew. And one of their bottles of liquor could probably turn my family's Inn back into the respectable establishment it once was. I stopped behind the couch Grantaire was passed out on. Would it really be the end of the world if I did take one? One bottle of liquor for my old life back? No more dirty deals, no more sailors, no more grimy clothes, and no more beatings.

It didn't matter, though.

"Eponine?" Grantaire grumbled from his spot on the couch. "Where are you going?" He added in a whisper as he stood up, his joints cracking as he did.

"I'm going home, Monsieur." I said quietly. "I thank you for letting me stay here last night, but I have work to do and accidents to clean up." I fixed him with a glare that mama gave me and Azelma all the time.

"You're going to go back to all that?" Grantaire frowned. "At least stay here until you're healed. I've already sent a letter to Joly asking him to come check your injuries out. Do not give me that look! Joly is a professional. Well, he's training to be one. But Joly aside, at least stay until you've healed."

"I've been beaten worse, Grantaire." I snapped. "Please let me go." If I had to get down on my knees to beg him, I would. I didn't want to be healed. I wanted to die. And if that meant going home and making it easy to be beaten then so be it.

"I'll pay for you." Grantaire offered before throwing a look towards Enjolras's room. He was up. I heard him moving around, too. "I'll send someone over to the Inn and have them tell your father that a patron has taken you in for a while. I'll have him name his price."

The drunk ushered me into the kitchen once Enjolras's door creaked open. I heard the two greet each other and start up some lively conversation about something that must have happened last night before the meeting. Grantaire's idea was far fetched. My father was anything but thick. He would bend and twist Grantaire until every last bit of money that Grantaire had to his name was in my father's dirty palms. Never underestimate a Thenardier. We may be nothing but street rats, but we owned the streets. We were quick, cunning, and could charm the pants right of the King. My father would never believe that some patron had taken a liking to me. I glanced out the window at the people already populating the streets. Maybe if I was dolled up like one of the high class Parisian ladies, maybe then father would believe him. But I was a street rat, and I made my money through bribery and deciet. That money, though...my father would without a doubt rake as much money as he could out of Grantaire, and we could start anew with that money. Azelma and I could have nice dresses again. Our own bed. Daily meals. Books. Shoes. Maybe even maids. I grinned at the thought. Spending a few days here wouldn't be the worst, would it?

One of the boys smacked their hand againt the kitchen door, causing me to gasp. There was a moment of silence before the old drunk stumbled into the kitchen, laughing like a nervous school boy. He scolded me for not being quiet, saying that he had to make up some line of bull so that Enjolras wouldn't freak out when he found out that Grantaire was harboring a street rat. I watched him as he fumbled around the kitchen. He gathered up a few things before he slipped back out of the room, telling me to stay quiet. I rolled my eyes at the door. He was being absolutely ridiculous. Enjolras should be happy that I'm here. It would be like connecting with the people as he so often preaches about. I had half a mind to just barge in the parlor, taking them both by surprise. The drunk caught me first, though, Joly bobbing in his wake.

"Monsieur." I bowed my head. I might have passed out if I had curtsied.

"'Ponine, are you all right?" Joly threw his sack on the counter and grabbed my shoulders. He took my chin in his hand, tilting my head from side to side, examining my bruised face.

"I'm fine." I muttered, jerking away from him. "I'm fine." I bit firmly.

"Hush, you two." Grantaire seethed, pressing his ear to the door. "Enjolras hasn't left yet. And she's not fine, Joly. That rat 'Parnasse used her as his own personal stress relief. Check her chest and abdomen."

"Maybe we could take her to the bedroom, Grantaire? A kitchen is hardly a place to do this."

Once again I was sitting on the edge of Grantaire's bed, staring out at the early morning Paris streets. Enjolras had left to get Marius about an hour ago, that's when they moved me from the kitchen to here, and now they were just outside the door discussing what to do now. Joly had said that it wasn't as bad as it could have been. He didn't think anything was broken, so that was good. No bed rest. I needed to be back out there, the street had become my home. I started picking at a spot on my skirt as the minutes dragged on. What could be taking them so long? There was really nothing that needed to be talked about. I was fine, just like I said, and what I really needed was to get out of here. I walked over to the window. We were probably like what? Five stories up? I could make it down to the street in no time. The window ledges were thick enough for me to get good footing.

"Don't even think about it, Thenardier."

I snapped my hand away from the glass as Joly and Grantaire walked in.

"I know that you two mean well, but you're really doing more harm to me by keeping me here." I gave Grantaire a look that silently begged him to let me go.

"Your ribs are probably bruised, Eponine." Joly reasoned. "You need rest. Grantaire told me what happened -don't glare at him-, and maybe it would be best if you stayed here until you're better. Besides, a little freedom from your family could be just what you need. You're family will get the money for you staying away, and you'll get time to yourself to heal and get healthy. If you think where the idea came from, you have to admit that it is pretty brilliant."

I smirked.

"This is really an opportunity of a lifetime, Eponine." The drunk leaned against the door. "You won't even have to deal with Enjolras if you're worried about him. He's hardly ever here, and he never comes into my room. It would be like he's not even here. We have a friend who can bring you a clean dress to wear, and maybe she can even take you out for your own when you get better."

"I haven't any money, Grantaire." I hissed.

"I'm sure if you're an amiable guest, I wouldn't mind paying for one."

_24 December 1830_

Grantaire was right about Enjolras. He had gotten in about two hours after the sun set, and it was only to pick Grantaire up to go out to see the rest of their ABC friends for Christmas Eve. It was nice to have them both out of the flat, though. It gave me time to snoop around and get a feeling of the place. Grantaire was nice, in his own way, but it had only been about thirty-six hours, and the man was suffocating me. If he wasn't by the bed telling me these ridiculous stories about his friends, he was just sitting there waiting to change my rags. I guess some people might find it sweet, but I wanted space. I wanted time to freak out and panic over my situation. I wanted time to cry and be depressed that these brats were keeping me from no longer having to pine over Marius. And I wanted to sulk because as much as I wanted to end my misery, I still held that sliver of hope that Marius would notice me. Really notice me. I wanted to do this all alone, too.

Enjolras's room was the first room I walked into. As I expected, from hearing Marius talk about him, his room was in perfect order. A drastic change from Grantaire's barely presentable one. His linens were perfectly pressed, everything had a place, and nothing was needless. I ran a finger over his desk. No dust. Of course. I stood in front of his book shelf. His taste was pretty wide. There were French political books, french geographic books, french history books, books about that revolution over in the new country, and books that were for normal people's enjoyment. I picked up one of the books that was on the shelf that didn't hurt to get at. It was a book by an Englishwoman. I bit my lip. Who knew Enjolras was such a romantic. Monsieur France Is My Only Love. I put the book back and continued looking around the room. What a room full of personality...

"Hello." I grinned widely after opening his closet.

Dresses. Petticoats. Corsets. Bodices. Camisoles. Shoes. More dresses. Did Enjolras have a side he wasn't sharing? I snickered and pulled out one of the dresses that was the most gorgeous shade of purple I had ever seen on a dress. I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I stuffed the dress back into the closet and went exploring deeper into the room. I found creams, brushes, sprays, washes, and all these other things I would have never pegged Enjolras to have. Screw the rest of the house. I found out where I'd spend most of my days. In a few days time my bruises wouldn't be so bad, and that old drunk would be able to lace me up. I never really cared for messing up other's things, but these dresses were going to keep me company for the next few weeks; so I might as well have cleaned myself up before putting them on. Besides, I didn't want Enjolras to smell the street next time he...well, next time he did whatever he does with these dresses.

I grabbed one of the silk robes from the closet, some soaps and brushes from the cabinet, and a towel from the cabinet next to Enjolras's washroom. By the time I had gotten the water heated and poured into the tub, I kind of didn't want to go through with it. Did people really go through all this trouble to bathe? It almost seemed ridiculous. That was all before the bath, though. I hadn't had a hot bath in so long, I nearly forgot the amazing feeling it gives. It was like all my pores were waking up from a long, dirty sleep. I could see skin under the grime, beauty marks that I had thought were crusted dirt, and the smell of the street started to vanish. I slid down and fully submerged myself under the water. The water was getting so nasty. Who knew I was that dirty. I smiled a little bit. I was that dirty and Marius still talked to me? He must have liked me. Why would he stay around?

Vanilla. It's what I smelled like. Smelled like vanilla. Shined like new. But I was still a street rat. The prettiest street rat you've ever seen, though. I twirled in front of the mirror with the silk robe on. It was only a robe, but it was still the nicest thing I had on in a very long time.

"Who are you?" A voice hissed behind me. "No, I don't want to know." I spun on my heel, stumbling away from the sight at the door. I wasn't afraid, she just caught me off guard. "Just take the robe and leave. I know how to work this thing." She added aiming the rifle at me.

She was a girl, obviously. Her hair was done up like she had people to do it for her, he dress was probably one from this closet, the coat she wore looked like it cost more than the Inn, and I was more than likely raiding her closet and not Enjolras. So Enjolras had a lady love? The girl tightened her grip on the rifle and took a step towards me. I can honestly say that this was a first.

"I'm a guest of Grantaire's." I said, my voice high from the nerves. "Who are you?"

"Elle Durand." Her grip on the rifle slackened. "What are you doing in here?"

"I-" I pressed my lips together. What explanation did I owe her? None. But I found myself answering anyway, "I don't have any clothes."

Elle's face lit up. "Oh!" She threw the rifle on Enjolras's bed and started shedding her coat and hat and gloves. "Honey, you must be new. When Grantaire brings you home, you stay in his room until you two are finished, then you leave." Really? You think a girl of the street doesn't understand how these things work?

"No, not that kind of guest." I said. "I'm friends with Marius Pontmercy. I know Grantaire through the meetings."

The girl gasped in excitement. God, she was like a little bundle of emotions that couldn't be kept at bay. "You're the silly girl who's always trailing after Pontmercy! Enjolras mentioned you!"

"I'm not silly." I sneered.

Elle giggled as she picked up my discarded clothes. With a look of disgust, she tossed them into the wash room. "Sweetie, you're a silly girl." She thumbed through the clothes in her closet, glancing back at me after every few dresses. "If people know you as the girl who chases after Pontmercy...you're silly. Really, it's like you're chasing a ghost." Elle handed me a plain, working girl dress.

I stared at it for a moment before she huffed and thrust it at me. She was giving me a dress to wear. Giving me one. Just because I was already planning on taking one? I wondered if she even wore half these dresses. I knew so many girls on the streets who wore even less than I did. They would be able to sell one of these dresses to get modest clothes, a garret, and food for at least a few months. I could take two bottles of liquor and two dresses when everyone was sleeping. My family and I could sell them and then run to England or take a ship to the new country. Anywhere but here. I let her help me into the dress. My eyes skimmed the dresses as she played with the ties and buttons. There were at least ten silk dresses and many more of other fabrics. She wouldn't even know if two of them were missing. It would be the easiest thing to steal two dresses. I mean, I would only have to make it past Enjolras. Or I could steal them before he got back, and as soon as I could get Elle to leave.

Who as she anyay? Maybe Enjolras's lover? Probably his betrothed, though. I couldn't picture Enjolras as the type of man to come home from a long day of studies to a warm bed and a willing lady. Afterall, France is his only love. She walked around the room, looking for something. She was very pretty, and even made me feel a little insecure about the way I looked. I tried standing up straighter like she was, but it hurt too much. Maybe she really was his betrothed, she surely seemed to know her way about the room. I doubted that just a friend would know where to find everything. Not to mention, the closet was full of her clothes. I have to say, I was a little disappointed by that. How interesting would it have been if the dresses were in fact Enjolras's? He would have definitely gained my confidence. A man forced to hide his true self because of what society would dub him...it as actually pretty heart-warming. Anyay, Elle. I was incredibly curious as to who she was. She came back towards me with a brush.

"You're like the little sister I never had. How long are you here for?"

"Until I get better." I shrugged.

Elle stared for a few seconds. "I didn't want to ask, but how'd you get those?"

"It was nothing." I waved off her question. It was none of her business.

She made a clicking noise with her tongue as she dragged the brush through my hair. It was quite the experience, let me tell you. I just wanted to rip her hair out, because that's what it felt like she was doing to my hair. It was horrible. I wish my parents would have never lost their wealth. Or I wish Grantaire would have never brought me to this damn place. I could have gone without the pain of having my hair brushed.

"Enjolras is my brother, just so you know." Elle said after she was done with most of my hair. Now all she was doing was running it through my hair. "I know that's what you were thinking. I don't even live here. I just need the closet space." There were more dresses? "I live across the hall. So, if you're ever in need of some female company during your stay, you're more than welcome to come find me. I get so lonely with a drunk and a revolutionary for company. You can be like my little sister. I never had one. I remember being so jealous of all the girls Enjolras and I grew up with. Everyone we know has a little sister. Sisters do everything together. And they do each other's hair. I've always had to do my own hair."

"I don't know how to do hair." Good God. What was I supposed to say? She was talking enough for the both of us.

"Elle, I told you to leave that key with Grantaire!" Enjolras's voice came from the parlor.

"Oh my, God!" I panicked, rushing about the room, picking up my things.

"What are you doing?" Elle asked as she watched.

"Enjolras doesn't know I'm here."

She snorted. "I can promise-"

"Elle, for the love of..." Enjolras's voice trailed off when he saw us and the rifle on his bed. "You're what Grantaire had to talk to me about?" Enjolras looked at me expectantly. "Grantaire!"

The stupid drunk was by his side in a matter of moments, looking over Enjolras's shoulder at me and Elle. "Oh, yeah." Grantaire cleared his throat. "I got you an early Christmas gift. I hope you like back sass, because she's full of it."

.

"She can't stay here, Grantaire!" Enjolras barked ten minutes later after we had moved from his bedroom to the parlor. He was pacing in front of the fire place while Grantaire stood at the liquor cabinet. I sat with Elle on the couch.

"It's snowing outside. The roads are slick. The Thenardier's Inn is over ten kilometers. You really want someone walking all that way on Christmas Eve?"

"No disrespect to Epoinine, but I'm sure she's walked further than that before."

"He's right."

"Hush, you." Elle clicked her tongue again.

Enjolras gave us a long look before turning back to the drunk, "We'll walk her back ourselves if it makes you feel any better. I'm sorry, Grantaire, but we have no room for her and no time to keep her." He spoke in the town that my father uses when his word is finalized. But father never had anyone like the drunk to deal with. And Enjolras is a far stretch from a coniving street rat like my father.

"No." Grantaire shot back whatever was in his glass. "She's staying in my room, and I'll sleep on the couch."

"She can stay with me." Elle piped up again. Enjolras shot her a glare. Why was he so adamant about getting me back? He rallied the people until his face was flush, but when it comes down to the grit he was all talk? No wonder the ABC boys were the only ones he could get to follow him. He was a dirty little rat who was no better than the rest of them. "My bed is big enough for the both of us, and I'd much rather have female company than you dumb boys."

"Montparnasse beat her half to death, Enjolras." Grantaire said. I hissed his name in protest, but Elle hushed me again.

"I'm perfectly fine." I hissed, swatting away Elle's hands as I stood. "I have walked further than a few kilometers in the dark. I've been hit before. And I have a home. Thank you for your consideration, Elle and Grantaire; but Enjolras is right." Enjolras nodded his head and crossed his arms. I inflated his ego. Guys like him enjoy being told that they're right.

"See?" He looked to the others.

"Okay," Grantaire put the liquor away. Oh boy. He's getting serious if he can't even talk and drink at the same time. "You want to know why I came in late to the meeting the other day? It was because I found her lying in a puddle of her own blood and vomit. Those cuts and bruises on her face aren't even an inkling of the problem, Enjolras." Grantaire turned to me. "You're staying with Elle at night and coming over here during the day. No questions."

"She can barely move she's so bruised up. I couldn't even put her in proper clothes." Elle said.

"I'm fine." I snapped again.

"You're not fine, Eponine." Grantaire barked. I shut my mouth. I'd never heard him raise his voice before. Ever. "This is your opportunity to help those you preach about helping, my friend. Do this and people might start taking you seriously."

"Fine." Enjolras sighed in defeat.

"Are you serious?" I laughed harshly. "You're going to let some drunken fool decide for you? If you let me stay here, I'll make sure my father takes you all for every scrap of gold to your names."

"It's a little hard to take someone who follows around Marius Pontmercy like a puppy seriously." Elle smirked. "Just saying."

"Enjolras!" I pleaded.

"Oh, come on, Eponine." Elle rolled her eyes and stood next to me. "We'll have loads of fun. I'll teach you how to wear your hear and how to do mine. We'll dress you up all pretty and lady like. I'll make sure Pontmercy notices you above all others. A little meat on your bones and Elle in your life, and Pontmercy will be the one tripping for you."

"Yes, it'll be grand." Grantaire said as he dug through the liquor cabinet again. "In the mean time, we're out of brandy."

**What'd you think of this chapter? Do you like Elle?**

**Pictures are up!(:**

**My birthday is on Thursday...review as a birthday gift?(:**


	3. Enjolras

**Thank you for all your support! It means the world to me.**

**Disclaimer: In 55 days I'll own a copy of Phantom of The Opera 25th:) :) :) :)**

_3 January 1831_

"Here," Elle handed me a bottle of Grantaire's brandy. "Grantaire has a fairly easy day today, so he should be back a little before midday; but if your wounds start to hurt just drink until your throat hurts more than your ribs." She said as she pulled her gloves on.

She mentioned something about leaving Paris for a little while, but I hadn't realized it was so soon. "How long are you going to be gone?" I asked.

Elle sighed, "No longer than a month. I need to visit my parents for about a week, so I can keep getting their money." I said with a grin. "Then I have a friend to visit in Rouen for a few days before her wedding. I'll be back once I shake all the alcohol." She winked.

"So I'll stay with the boys?"

She nodded. "Just remember to eat and use those lotions like I showed you. Take a bath on Wednesday mornings and Saturday nights. Don't forget to brush your hair either. Be sure to clean up after yourself, too, otherwise Enjolras will throw a hissy fit. Maybe on Thursday Enjolras will take you to a nearby village just to escape the city for a bit." Elle finished with a smile. "Don't let Enjolras know I'm visiting our parents. Be safe and stay well." She added with a kiss on my cheeks before leaving.

Although Elle staying gone was new, her leaving me during the week had become customary over the past week and a half. I didn't ask questions, but I was starting to get insanely curious. Elle would leave me about a half an hour after the boys did, then come back ten minutes before they walked in. The first two days I had no clue what to do. I just sort of bummed around the flat, going through the dresses in Enjolras's closet. But once I thumbed through all the dresses and shoes, I started on his books. Don't be so skeptical. Of course I know how to read. I got all the basics down by the time our riches were gone, but it was Montparnasse who helped me to keep going. He really was a sweet man. He just had a quick temper that you never really saw coming. Anyway, I'd taken to reading the books on Enjolras's bookcase while I waited for Elle to get back. He has such a wide variety of books that I wasn't sure which one to start with. I settled for one of his romance books. No lie, it even made me blush a little. And I'm a whore. I could only imagine what it did to a prude like Enjolras. I was on one of his school books now. Not his law books, of course. I really didn't care to read all those pages on such a boring topic. But his literature and ancient history books were captivating enough.

He wrote notes to himself in the margins of all his books. The literature ones, the art ones, and even the romance ones. Some of them really made no sense, and I figured he wrote them when he was suffering from lack of sleep. But others were quite insightful and romantic when appropriate. Part of me thought that under his cold, patriot exterior, all Enjolras really wanted was a warm body to come home to at the end of the day. Who wouldn't? You can't be a patriot and a partner, though. And anyone who's ever seen the guy would know that he'd choose love of his country over love of a woman any day. He shows more passion in his speeches than I'd ever seen any man show to his love. Hell, even the notes in his history books are more heart felt than the ones in his romance novels. I smirked and shook my head. I can't imagine his life. I walked into Enjolras's neatly kept room with a silly grin on my face. In a few weeks it could be Marius's room I'd be walking into, ready to remove my dress.

"Oops." I intentionally dropped the pins from my hair on the floor in front of the door. "What ever will I do with this monstrosity?" I clicked my tongue like Elle. "What the hell, a few pins will liven this place up." I looked around the room.

Honestly, I was getting anxious. It had been nearly two weeks, and nothing was happening. I frowned at myself looking in the mirror in Enjolras's bedroom. I was still the same scrawny street rat I was a week and a half ago. Elle said my hair was going to take a bit to get full and soft like hers since it'd been neglected for so long. I mean, it was the softest it's been in a while, but it still fell short compared to any proper lady's hair. My fingers ran through my short-coming locks and tried to fluff them by ruffling my hair. It was no use. Just made it look like I had woken up from a nap. Glancing towards the door, I undid the ties to my dress then kicked it and my undergarments to the side. I wasn't all that black and blue anymore. Kind of. Yellow was more predominant. Years and years of rough beatings told me that yellow was good, though. It meant that I healing. But I was still yellow. Marius wouldn't look twice at me if I was so discolored. I was multicolored. I was too skinny. My hair wasn't full enough. And I was a poor street urchin. I wasn't good enough. Right? No. Maybe. I could be pretty like the girls that Marius fell in love with. Elle would make me up like her. It was just going to take time. Marius would love me.

I grabbed Elle's powder that I had first seen when I was in here rummaging around the other day. I had never used powder before, but I bet it would cover up the bruises. Obviously not the pain but I've gritted my way through pain before. I could do it again. The powder settled over my stomach, chest, hips, and ribs. It felt so strange, like being hidden by pale dust. I patted more powder on the darker patches on my ribs and stomach. Montparnasse really did a number on me, even though I'm sure he didn't mean to hurt me this bad. He would have never killed me like I wanted him to that night. He probably didn't even realize that he hurt me so bad. I couldn't really blame him, I suppose. He was a man who got a bit carried away. I'd been bedded longer from beatings that father had inflicted. He even dislocated my hip one time and shoulder the next. Where was Grantaire then when no amount of powder could have hidden those signs? I let the powder fall to the floor as I patted my skin more. When I was satisfied, I tossed the container on the bed and the puff on the floor. Oops. I smoothed my hands over my body and checked myself out in the mirror. Better than I had looked in days. Marius would love me soon.

I took one of the fans from Enjolras's closet and opened it with a flick of my wrist like Elle taught me. "Cake." I muttered, hiding the bottom of my face behind the fan and twirling around.

Poor Azelma. She always loved these lady things way more than I ever had. Elle would love her. Azelma learned how to do some simple things with her hair from the urchins down by the docks and some older women at the market on Thursdays. She says that just because we're poor, that doesn't mean we can't try to look the best we can. Father was the one who drilled that into her head. He felt that because of our status in Paris we needed to be on our top game so that we could get the upper hand on all the other crooks. People trust you more when you look nice. Mama and I couldn't care less. I sell myself, and I steal from others when I'm not tending the bar. What do I need to look good for when I'm doing those things? Mama agrees. Fate has a funny way of mixing things up. It would seem to anyone that Azelma should have gotten this chance to be saved by Grantaire, but it was me. That's what made me sure Marius and I were destined to be together. Why else would I get this opportunity to change?

"Like an old pro." I said about the way I was moving the fan, concealing parts of me here and there. Elle didn't teach me any of that. I knew what to show to leave men panting and begging for more.

I brushed the powder container onto the floor, causing it to break open and dirty the floor even more. I thought about cleaning it up right away but shrugged it off. I had all the time in the world to clean it up. All day.

Watching myself in the mirror, I set the fan to my side and slowly rolled some white stockings up each leg. Some old bat down at the docks told me a few of her secrets to men when I first started working down there years and years ago. She was off her rocker, but she was the nicest urchin down there. I wish I would have went to the funeral the ladies had for her when one of her clients strangled her behind the butcher shop, but father had me help him raid a house with him for the first time ever. At the time, spending time with father was more important than keeping up relations with the girls. Anyway, the bat told me that if the rat paying for me wasn't in a rush to go anywhere, then take everything slow. Kissing. Undressing. Pleasing. Redressing. She claimed it drove the men wild, and she was right with every idiot I tried it on. You get some extra change for making it worth-while. Hopefully it would turn Marius on as much as it did the men who weren't worth my time or heart. Besides, everything I tried was practice for Marius.

"Smiling eyes and smirking mouth." I repeated the second thing the old bat told me as I picked the fan back up. I cringed as I brought my legs to my chest and tilted them to the right, placing the fan so it hid my chest but exposed my neck and part of my abdomen. "If it hurts, smile like you're grateful for the opportunity to feel pain."

Over the years some of her advice was lost in my mind, but the important things and things I often used stuck like paste.

I held my breath and backed up on the bed. My body hated me with every move I made. It was being strained with every pose. Never would I have thought Grantaire's advice to take it easy was wise. You learn something new every day. But I ignored it and leaned back, using the fan to shield my torso, but kept myself in full view of the mirror.

"If you can find a mirror, use it. You'll feel better and more confident in your movements." There were no mirrors down at the dock, so finding a mirror and practicing faces and moves and poses in it was amazing. "In a few weeks, Marius will see me." I smiled at myself seductively as I stood on my knees, bringing my arms behind my head and flaunting the fan like a hair piece.

"Pontmercy can't even see-" Enjolras's voice cut off abruptly when he appeared in the threshold.

"Monsieur!" I gasped at Enjolras's sudden appearance. I didn't even hear him come in! "Oh my God." I choked as I scrambled off his bed to get back into my clothes. What was he even doing back? It was still morning! I hadn't even thought of a lie to tell about Elle! He would be so upset that she left me alone in his flat. I was getting sick to my stomach. I would have rather had Grantaire walk in on me like that. Was I blushing? No, I was flushing. He upset me more than I upset him. What kind of man listens in on a woman talking to herself. Or even comments on her self musings? I felt my face burning up. Because I was mad.

Enjolras's hand was glued in front of his eyes when I finally managed to make myself partially decent. I could help myself from snickering a little, though. I bet I was the first girl he'd ever seen nude. He should be honored, really.

"I'm so sorry, Enjolras." I said sincerely, placing a hand on his elbow. He jerked away from me. I wasn't sorry for being in here. I was just sorry I got caught.

"Nothing a damp rag won't clean up." He replied, picking up up my pins and handing them to me without actually looking at me. I stared at him uncertainly. A damp rag? What was he going on about? "Fetch me one, please?"

Oh, his precious floor. Of course. Enjolras sees a girl naked, and the first thing he's concerned about is the mess on the floor. I rolled my eyes and left the room to get him his rag.

"Where's Elle?" Enjolras asked when I came back with the rag. He was brushing his bed off and fluffing the pillows my feet and elbows had touched. It really wasn't that bad. I'd been given more baths than he had in the time I'd been with them. The dirtiest part of me was my history.

"She had to leave early." I shrugged. "Listen..."

"To go where?"

"I don't know. Something about a pregnant friend?" I lied. "Monsieur..."

"She doesn't have a pregnant friend. Are you sure you heard her right?"

"Enjolras!"

"I can pretend it didn't happen if you can." He bit quickly.

"It's not that bad."

"Eponine." He warned.

"Haven't you ever seen a naked woman before?"

Enjolras gave me a double glance but kept focused on cleaning the mess I made. "With all do respect," He said it as if I deserved no respect at all. "I won't discus my personal life with someone who flaunts hers so freely."

I'll admit, I was taken aback. I can't even believe Enjolras was the one to say it. All I did was ask him a question! He's the one who was supposed to stick up for my kind of people, and here he was insulting my lifestyle. How dare he. He knew nothing about my situation or my life. Every moment and decision about my life was unknown to him, yet he just acted like I wanted to be used and abused by different men on different nights. I would have put my hands on my hips, but they were still horribly sore. I bet he was just using rude retorts to cover up his complete prude history. Lots of people are like that. If mama doesn't want to talk about why she married father, she insults how ugly Azelma and I are. Normally, I brushed off comments like that. But Enjolras wasn't fragile like mama, and he wasn't going to get the sweet treatment just because he was letting me stay.

"Forgive me," I hissed sarcastically. "I nearly forgot how touchy prudes are." I knocked everything on the dresser to my left on the floor and added, "You missed a spot." and stormed off to Grantaire's room, locking the door behind me.

Ten hours later, I moved my food around my plate without taking a bite at dinner. Grantaire practically had to drag Enjolras and I out of the rooms we were in when he got back from classes and found the house seemingly empty. The time before dinner was horribly tense. Enjolras sat in the chair, staring at the fire like he wished he could push me into it. I sat stiffly next to Grantaire on the couch as he tried teaching me to read, thinking I was unable to. Finally he took me aside and asked what was going on. I lied and told him my bruises were unpleasant today, and that I had no idea what had gotten to Enjolras. The look that Enjolras had plastered over his dumb face told me that he thought I told Grantaire what had happened. I'm not that type of girl. I was going to get Enjolras to admit it himself and let him go on thinking that his favorite drunk knew. Things were funnier that way. Like, to break the silence right before we were called for dinner, Grantaire asked Enjolras if he saw anything interesting today. I think Enjolras nearly peed his pants. But Grantaire only asked because he saw Combferre with some little urchin from my part of town. Enjolras would be on his toes all night.

"Did you like the breast?" Grantaire asked.

Enjolras choked on his wine. I had to bring my glass up to my mouth to hide my grin. Of course, the drunk was talking about the chicken. Joly frowned at Enjolras as he swirled the wine in his glass. He was the one who made us dinner since Grantaire was the only one who knew how to cook, but come on...What kind of fool is going to trust a drunk like Grantaire to serve an edible meal? Not me.

"What?" Enjolras managed to get out.

"The chicken, Enjolras." Joly clarified. "The chicken breast."

"Oh." Enjolras cleared his throat. "It was fine."

"Not tender?" I smirked.

"A little over done, actually." He answered without looking at me. Poor Joly.

"I thought it was perfect." Grantaire smiled idiotically and took a drink of brandy. Enjolras looked despairingly at his friend. This was too good to be true. I wonder what else I could get Grantaire to say before Enjolras cracked under the fake pressure.

"Well, you've clearly never had chicken breast before." I told Enjolras.

"I'm not big on meat that's eaten around town."

Part of me wanted to smile at that comment. It was a good jibe. But we were having a serious banter, so I had to hide my emotions.

"If you heat it up just right, it's quite succulent." I grinned.

"I wouldn't trust it."

"Enjolras," Joly shook his head. "You eat chicken all the time, and this chicken came from the same market down by the docks."

"Oh!" I laughed. "You eat the chicken from the docks all the time? Forgive me. And here I thought this was the first time you'd had a taste of chicken breast." I sat back in my seat despite proper etiquette and the pain that shot through my body.

"Are you kidding? Enjolras loves the breasts." Grantaire said. I could have kissed him.

"Grantaire." Enjolras hissed.

"We're just talking about food, my dear host." I smirked at him as I took a sip of wine. "Did you have some other meat on your mind?"

"My diet is none of your concern, Thenardier." Enjolras stood up. "Thank you for the meal, Joly, but if you'll excuse me, I need to get to the Cafe." He bowed to Joly before hastily leaving the room. I was quite pleased with myself.

"What is up with him today? He's been moody since I got back." Grantaire looked to Joly.

"His favorite professor at the university was let go after he was jailed for traitorous activity. The class is canceled until further notice, and even then it'll be taught by someone with half the brains of that man." Joly told us. "It's Enjolras's only class on Mondays. He's just enraged over it."

"Oh no, Enjolras will have nothing to do on Mondays? I fear we're in trouble." Grantaire snickered.

"What do you mean?"

Joly laughed harshly. "Enjolras had no classes on Tuesdays two semesters ago." The two boys rolled their eyes in unison. "He drove poor Elle to the brink of insanity being home all the time. That's when this obsession started." He nodded around the room. Like Enjolras's bedroom it was orderly.

"Just from boredom?"

Grantaire shrugged, "It might have been something he read. Well, now that you and he will be companions on Mondays, you can tell us."

"Elle will be here, too." Joly reminded him. "Maybe you can sneak it out of Elle."

"You think Elle's going to stay around here once she finds out that Enjolras will be here all day on Mondays?" Grantaire shook his head. "No, monsieur. She'll wake an hour early just to leave before he has a chance to. My poor Enjolras. So, I guess now would be a bad time to tell him that I'm leaving for a few weeks?" Grantaire laughed drunkenly.

"You're leaving me alone with him?" I asked incredulously.

"He's not that bad of a companion when he's got classes to attend." Grantaire waved his hand dismissively. Speak for yourself, he's probably never caught you posing sexually. "Besides, Joly will be over every other evening to check on you. If I didn't have to go, I wouldn't; but I need to visit my parents and then attend a friend's wedding."

Joly nodded understandingly. I stared at him. Parents and a wedding? Being a Thenardier, you tend to pick up on things quicker. But you didn't need to be from any certain family to catch that lie. I guess I really shouldn't have been surprised. The best friend and the sister...it was like a romance novel. I kept my mouth shut, though. Grantaire and Elle were my only friends here in my posh jail. I didn't want to turn on them and then be kicked out before catching Marius's attention at last. Don't bite the hand that feeds you. Literally, actually.

Grantaire got even more drunk after dinner and ended up passing out on the floor in front of the fireplace, forcing me to see Joly out. He made small talk about my injuries and wondered if I was doing well to help them to heal. I promised him that I spent most days in the chair or in bed. Which was true, I don't walk around to read. After Joly left, I poked my head in Enjolras's room. It was dumb of me to do, I know, but I just wanted to see if he was there. Lucky for me, he wasn't lying when he said he was going to the Cafe. Moving quickly, I took two plain dresses from the closet and a few lotions from one drawer. Enjolras had everything neatly organized and scrubbed from earlier today. I didn't get it. I had never met anyone so keen on keeping their room clean enough for a royal to walk into.

I crossed the hall to Grantaire's room with the dresses and lotions in my arms. I tossed the things on his bed and took an outfit from his closet. Thankfully all the clothes in it were clothes for men. I would have seriously questioned Enjolras's closet had Grantaire's been full of dresses. I stepped out of my dress and pulled on a pair of his trousers and stuffed one of his smaller shirts into it. His belt was still to big for me, but at least it kept the trousers from completely falling down. Elle would flip out if she knew I was dressing up like a boy again. I stepped into my shoes, thanking my stars that Elle and Grantaire had only gotten rid of my rags. Okay. I could do this. I grabbed my hat from the floor where it had been discarded my first night here and a suitcase that was open and thrown into the corner of the room. The dresses and lotions barely fit, but I made it work. It needed to work if I was going to haul this thing all the way to the Inn before father got back from a nightly 'stroll' around his normal neighborhoods. Monday nights were excellent business days for him.

My coat wasn't as big as it normally was on me. It was a good thing. It meant I was gaining weight. Perfect. I grinned as I hurried with the suitcase out of the flat. Grantaire would be out for the night, and I knew Enjolras had no intent of apologizing anytime soon; so really, I had the entire night to myself. It would be just like old times. My grin widened as the bitter January air hit my face. God, I couldn't remember a time when I was so happy to be outside in the cold. I'd been shut up in that damn flat for a week and a half that I almost had forgotten how lovely the brisk air felt in my lungs. I took a few deep, well as deep as my ribs would allow, breaths before starting towards home.

"Oi! Boy!" A voice came after I had been walking for about ten minutes. I froze. Who was out at this time of night in this part of town? "Whatcha got there?" The girl's voice asked teasingly. I rolled my eyes. Please, little urchin, I perfected that tone. You can't use my skills against me.

"Listen, you little rat," I turned to the girl, clutching the suitcase tightly. "Azelma!" I gasped. 'Zelma stood a few meters away from me, wearing scantily tattered clothes and her flimsy winter coat.

"Eponine?" Azelma's eyes grew wide, and she quickly closed her coat. "Eponine! Where've you been?" She perked up and ran up to me. "Papa's been crazy looking for you and Aiden. He thinks that some old foe caught you two and has got you stowed away somewhere." Azelma hugged me tightly. I let out a cry in pain. I tried holding it in, but it was no use. She hugs like a bear. I keeled over from coughing. "'Ponine, what's happened to you?"

"You said Montparnasse's missing?"

Azelma nodded. "We raided his place the other week, and I found this in my spot." She took Grantaire's pouch from her coat and handed it to me. "I figured you and he robbed some old coot and left with the money. Obviously not."

I ran my thumb over the 'R' sewn on the suede pouch. "He left me for dead in the alley across from the Cafe. A friend took me in." I told her.

"Aiden wouldn't beat you." She snorted in disbelief. See, no one would believe that Montparnasse would beat me unless they'd seen him do it with their own eyes. The only reason the brats believed me was because they're prejudice against him. I lifted up Grantaire's shirt and showed her my bruises. "Oh my God, 'Ponine!" Azelma brought her hands to her mouth as she looked at my bruises in disgust.

"They aren't that bad."

"Like hell they aren't." She whispered, moving my coat to see better. "You look like a damn water color. Who are you staying with? What are they doing for you? Have you seen a doctor? You smell like flowers. Are you bathing? Oh, Eponine, are they rich?" Once you got Azelma talking, she wouldn't stop. "You're staying with a man, aren't you? Are you sleeping with him? You know, if you are, papa's going to want you to charge him heavily. Is it Marius? Please tell me it's not him..."

"Good Lord, 'Zelma." I seethed, looking around to make sure no one was around to hear her raising voice. She thought my feelings for Marius were nothing more than childish fantasies that my mind constructed to help deal with father's hostility. "Father _isn't _going to know who I'm staying with, got it? And I'm only there until I heal properly. I got you something." I started to hand over the suitcase, but Azelma swatted my hand away.

"It's a bourgeois brat." She said excitedly, but the look in her eye betrayed her.

"You don't know how to be a whore!" I whispered.

"Hush." Azelma shooed me. "Monsieur!" She called out to him.

Azelma was a year younger than me. She didn't usually walk the streets at night, and when she did it was only to get away from the smelly guests at the Inn...father didn't want his little girl to spoil her good name by working like a whore. She normally just kept things at the Inn running, tending the bar and charging the guests for various fees. You would think that her so clearly being father's favorite would inflate her head, but she wasn't anything like that. She had a level head on her shoulders. The only hint of Thenardier in her is her quickness on her feet and ability to lie her way out of any situation. She didn't take part in raids, only went down to the docks to socialize with the girls, and she was never the one to steal anything. I don't even think she's been nude in front of a man before. So her being out in this part of Paris at night only meant that father was hurting for business since I left, and Azelma was forced into prostitution because of me. The brick in my stomach felt heavy. Azelma was the type of person who you prayed wouldn't get caught up in the nighttime activities.

"No, Azelma," I grabbed her arms and gave her a shake as the man's footsteps approached us. "There's two fine dresses and expensive lotions in here. Take them to the place in the market and sell them. They're worth great money, I know it."

"Monsieur. Mademoiselle." The man bowed when he reached us. I rolled my eyes. I'd know that dumb voice anywhere.

"Go away, this chicken isn't for sale." I snapped.

"Thenardier..." Enjolras straightened up. "My sister and Joly would wring your neck if they knew you were out here."

"Yes, well, I'd rather be out here than cramped in your damn flat." I spat.

"Eponine!" Azelma nudged me in the ribs without thinking. I bit my tongue and shied away from her. I couldn't yell at her.

"What are you doing out here?" Enjolras asked me, looking at the suitcase then back at me. It was the first time we made eye contact since this morning. I felt my face getting flush from the cold.

"I was going home." I lied. I wasn't really planning on staying home. Marius's affections meant far more to me than my street life. Mama taught me the tricks to manipulating ideas and feelings. "I can handle whatever happens to me from not taking care of the injuries, and I've lived without Marius all these years, I can keep doing it. I just miss Azelma, and I can't let her go on doing my jobs while I'm away." I squeezed Azelma's arm.

"Eponine..." He and Azelma said at the same time. Azelma went on, "if you're being willingly cared for at his place, then you should stay. You know what papa will do the second you get home." She took my hat off my head. "I'll tell papa some line. You'll take are of her, right?" Azelma looked at Enjolras expectantly.

"Of course."

I wondered if she caught the reluctance in his voice. I'd have to tell her about our run-in next time.

"Good." Azelma kissed my cheeks and bid good night to Enjolras before taking the suitcase from my hands with a wink.

"'Zelma, here." I took a pouch from my coat pocket. It had enough change in it to please father. "Put a few under your feet for yourself."

"Here." Enjolras added, digging into his coat pockets and putting more coins in the pouch. "I was just going to use it for some new books."

"Thank you, Eponine. Monsieur." She curtsied before bolting down the alley and onto a foot path.

I stood awkwardly with Enjolras. Did I apologize for dinner and the morning? I really felt like I owed him no apology. If anything, he should have apologized for overreacting and snapping at me the way he did. I did understand him, though. He was upset, and people say rude things when their emotions are boiling. So I suppose I couldn't hold him to too high of a standard. He was just a man, afterall. We walked back together in silence. I hated these silences, I felt like I should've asked him how his revolutionary ideas were going. But that probably would have just upset him more or set him off on a rant that I didn't care to hear. Why were these brats so hard to talk to? Why couldn't they all be like Marius?

"Will you take me to your neighborhood sometime? If I get you some boy's clothes, I mean." Enjolras broke the silence. "I'd really like to share a speech with...your class." He added. Oh, come on now. How was I supposed to make rude comments behind your back if you went and talked like this.

"I don't know." I said truthfully. "Most people won't take too kindly to someone from a higher class coming in and telling them how they ought to be ruled." Sounds familiar, right?

"Oh." He glanced around at the buildings. "What will your father do to you when you return?"

I glanced up at him then back at the cobblestones. "He'll probably beat me. I'll have to be put in my place for leaving and not charging you for keeping me." I answered. "And then he'll send me to the docks. He's losing money every night I'm not there, you know. It's why Azelma was out. Contrary to popular belief, monsieur, we don't pick our poison."

"Oh." He repeated uncomfortably. "I'm sorry for what I said earlier." I think it's safe to say, I won this argument. The truth will trip them. "I'm just not used to a lady addressing me so frankly like that." Was he calling me a lady to get on my good side or because he truly believed it?

"It's funny." I said as he held the flat's door open for me. He may have apologized to me, but he wasn't paying nor rushing: I was going to take things slow. "I listen to every word you say on Wednesday nights, and you always talk about the hypocrisy of the government. You're truly a compelling speaker." I started walking towards Grantaire's bedroom. "But you're the biggest hypocrite I know."

**So I didn't want Eponine and Enjolras's relationship to start off as some of the ones I've already read. I feel like since they're sort of each other's male and female counterpart that they'd banter like it was second nature. Anyway, I promise to bring you plenty of banter and sexual tension and hope it'll capture your attention!**

**Please review! If you do, I'll send you the first 1,000 words to the next chapter. It'll be worth it;) Think of it as an early holiday gift on both our parts.**


	4. Grantaire

**Thank you so much for all the support! I love you all:)**

**I hope you enjoy the chapter!**

**Disclaimer: I will own the 25th Anniversary of Phantom of the Opera in 38 days!**

I moaned into Enjolras's mouth as my back came in contact with one of the walls in the hallway. I couldn't feel the pain my bruises normally gave me. Only Enjolras. His hands running up and down my bare sides, his hot breath against my skin, his lips biting and kissing and sucking on the most tender spots, and his groin pressing into me the more heated we became. I leaned against the wall and slowly untucked his shirt from his trousers, taking every chance to barely slide my fingers into his trousers. Our breathing started becoming more even, giving us an opportunity to fully appreciate the wonder of each other's lips. With every kiss and every touch my fear of ruining things between Marius vanished bit by bit. He was intoxicating. He knew just where to touch and just how to move. His romance novels really taught him a thing or two about how to please a woman. I gasped softly and grinned when he nipped at my bottom lip. I slipped a leg between his legs and rubbed it up and down. He groaned every time rubbed at the top of his thighs. Slowly.

Enjolras quickly undid Grantaire's pants, and they were discarded hastily. I wondered if, no when he was going to freak out over them being on the floor. He repositioned his arms when I moved to wrap my legs around his waist, bringing my body closer to his. I ran my fingers through his hair, guided them gently across the back of his neck and down to his collarbone. Goosebumps appeared wherever I touched. His lips found mine and kissed them deep and longingly as I dragged my nails across his shoulders and then up his back. I was sure that Grantaire would have awoke from the loud purr that Enjolras got from me after biting my shoulder. Huh. I guess Montparnasse really did know a thing or two about me. I brought Enjolras's lips back to mine, kissing him slowly in an attempt to clear everything but him from my mind. I pressed myself closer to him and ground my hips against him. I needed him. He had to know that. My back left the wall for a moment before being slammed back into it. Another moan left my mouth. I ground my hips again, this time with more intent.

"Grantaire's bedroom." Enjorlas breathed huskily.

I nodded in response, not trusting my own voice to make any noise that wasn't primal. Enjolras moved quickly to the room and wasted no time to settle us on the bed. Really, everything had been going rather quickly, but I was mistress of the bedroom. This was my turf, and things were going to be done my way. I rolled us over and straddled him, smirking down at him. I rubbed my hands up and down his arms before prying them off of my hips and placing them on either side of his head. Enjolras went along with it and the slow, tantalizing kiss. He was surprisingly compliant for such a force in his inevitable revolution. But he tried to move his arms after I let go of his wrists to sit up. I smacked his shoulders and forced his arms back to the way I had them.

"You're mine now." I whispered in his ear. "I own you." I nipped at his earlobes and got a hiss from him. "We're going to take things slow, and you're going to do exactly what I say if you want anything." I smirked as I lowered one of the straps of my camisole.

"Alright."

"I didn't say to speak." I pulled the strap back up.

I trailed my hands down his chest to the point where the fabric of his trousers met skin. I inched my way towards undoing his trousers, causing him to groan and roll his hips against my core. Like I hadn't learned self control a while ago. I could probably play this game all night or until he needed so badly to relieve himself. I tugged his trousers partially down, so that they sat just above what Enjolras was so wanting to be free. I ground my hips against it before gradually kissing my way back up his torso to his neck. I made a point of kissing all the visible flesh on him...neck, face, and chest before eventually rewarding him with a worthwhile kiss. I went back to clutching his wrists and hovering just above his lips.

"Say my name." I muttered, nudging his nose.

"Eponine." He grunted and bucked.

"Again."

"Eponine." I kissed him tenderly.

"Enjolras."

"Eponine!" Enjolras barked, kicking the foot of Grantaire's bed. I gasped and flushed instantly when his face became clearer. "I've been calling you for the past five minutes. Grantaire is ill, and I need to go pick Pontmercy at Joly's. Will you watch over the drunk and make sure he stays alive?"

"Okay." I choked out after catching myself glancing at his groin.

"I know you want Pontmercy to see you as a beautiful lady in these coming weeks," Enjolras looked at me seriously. "So, if you want, I won't mention that it's not his name your crying in your dreams."

"Get out!" I snapped, throwing a pillow at him but only getting the door as it shut.

Stupid schoolboy. Let him think he's the one invading my dreams at night. His opinion didn't matter. I knew I loved Marius, and that's all that mattered. Besides, the only reason Enjolras was the star of that horrible dream was because I had been thinking of him before I fell asleep the following night. I had been thinking of different ways to spend our Mondays. I was thinking of using the comments in his romance books to tease him when I finally drifted to sleep. He would either think that Elle or Grantaire had read me passages that he wrote in there. He'd be embarrassed and angered at the same time, and I would be able to manipulate him and keep him hanging on nearly everything I did. What would those ABC boys say if they knew their prude patriot was a hopeless romantic at heart? I could only imagine and pray.

Grantaire was moaning and groaning on the couch when I finally managed to compose myself enough to not look like I had an erotic dream. Not that Grantaire would really be able to tell. I frowned at the sight of him. He was sweating and flushed and looked like he was going to be sick to his stomach at any moment. Was it rude of me to think that he deserved this? It was probably from all that alcohol he drinks. I clicked my tongue, like Elle does, at him, and he sent me a vague glance. He was so out of it. I could start talking in some completely random language, and he would go on like we were having a conversation in our native tongue. I shook my head and went to fetch some rags, a pot of cool water, and some drinking water. A good detox is what he needed. Just like the ones mama use to give some of father's low life rodents. Grantaire grunted when I knelt on the floor next to him.

"I hope you know, I think you deserve every bit of anguish you're feeling."

"No rude comment you throw hurts me." Grantaire sighed as I patted the cold rag on his face. "You want to know why?"

"Not really but you'll tell me anyway." I grinned down at him.

"Because you're not as bad as you come across."

I rolled my eyes, "You're fever is talking."

"Nope." He shook his head and grabbed my wrist. "I'm trying to pay you a compliment, so you shut up. They don't come around often. If you were so bad and brutish, you wouldn't be here taking care of an old drunk. Your beauty is more than skin deep." Grantaire gave my wrist a light squeeze. "Now give me some brandy, so I can forget I said that."

"You think I'm a beauty?" I tried to sound nonchalant. I didn't want him thinking it was the first time I had been complimented so sweetly, but it was. And as much as I hated to admit it, it meant a lot coming from someone like Grantaire. He was educated, rich, well-liked. So if he thought I was a beauty, then maybe Marius falling in love with me wasn't as far-fetched as Azelma and mama thought.

"Who doesn't?" Grantaire grunted before falling into a coughing fit. I gave him a glass of water to sip on as I dipped the rag in the cool water bowl. Well, damn, you stupid drunk, you have me blushing a bit. "I was completely serious about that brandy, Thenardier. I want to forget about you having a sex dream about Enjolras, too. So be a dear and get me some brandy, my sweet prisoner?"

I smacked Grantaire stomach, which sent him into another fit. "He told you that?" I barked.

"No. I _heard _it!" Grantaire glared. "Brandy. Now."

I went door to door in the apartment complex after leaving the drunk with a half bottle of brandy, telling each of the neighbors that my betrothed was ill and in pain and asking them if they had anything to lull him to sleep. You'd have been surprised how many people were more than happy to let me into their homes while they looked through their cabinets for something. I raked up one hundred francs, a piece of gold, a pretty ribbon, and the loveliest necklace I had ever seen. The people were so oblivious to my taking, too. They treated me like I was some poor doe who had no clue what to do with the world. I grinned every time I successfully left a flat. People were stupid. They let the simplest things blind them. Being a girl was fantastic. No one suspected a woman in a nice dress of stealing anything. Anyway, some old coot on the floor below gave me some tea and promised it would soothe my betrothed without sickening him anymore. I thanked her graciously and hurried back to Grantaire before she figured out I took the silver locket she had sitting by her fireplace. Dumb broad.

"I've got some tea for you." I said slamming the door shut behind me. Grantaire groaned at the sound, and I grinned.

"I don't want tea."

"Well, you can't have anymore brandy. You're going through detox."

"I need to forget things."

"You won't be forgetting everything." I took the rag off his forehead. "That wasn't a sex dream you heard. That was the real deal. This morning was just me reliving last night in my dreams." I smacked his arm with the rag as he stared at me.

"No."

"Yes."

"Enjolras?"

"Tell me about it. I was quite surprised when he came on so strong to me last night after he walked in on me changing. It was actually kind of sexy." I lied. "And you all thought he was a prude. Poor thing is ashamed about it, though. He's bashful, I guess. Doesn't want all you knowing. So I guess you should keep this between us."

"What?" Grantaire cried. "How do you suggest I do that? Enjolras pleasured a woman, and you want me to keep quiet? Woman..."

"Don't let him know you know, you stupid drunk. He said he was so wounded when you found out about his romance novels...I don't think he could handle this."

Grantaire busted out laughing, and it took serious will power not to join him. No. Enjolras and I didn't actually have sex, but it would be fun to mess with Grantaire and Enjolras at the same time. I needed to keep myself entertained somehow.

"He has romance novels? Oh, this is too grand." Grantaire shook his head and took the tea I offered. You're telling me.

Grantaire slipped in and out of sleep the rest of the day, and I kept myself occupied by rearranging random things around the flat for Enjolras to find when he came back. A few books and trinkets, the placement of the do dads on the mantle, the alphabetical order of the alcohol, and things that normal people wouldn't catch on. Enjolras isn't normal, though. He's a freak. I subbed one of the books in Grantaire's room with on of the books in Enjolras's, just so I could buy myself as much time as I could to read it. It's the main reason I left his room alone in my activities. In the kitchen, I put the glass where the teacups were, the teacups where the medicine cabinet was, the medical supplies in the two drawers with random things, the random things where the glass was and in the bread box. The dining room was easy. I just moved the chairs around and messed up the candles that were on the table. I was going to have so much fun watching him run about the flat like a chicken with it's head cut off. Why did I ever feel unsure of staying with these people? Grantaire had stumbled into the kitchen when I was in the middle of my 'redecorating', but I just told him Enjolras told me to do this. The drunk believed me and went back to his spot on the couch. See? I could tell him anything.

The flat was an organized disaster when Enjolras walked in some time after dinner. He smirked in acknowledgement at me before disappearing into his room with an armful of things for a little bit. I watched him intently as he shuffled through some papers and boxes he had brought out with him. They were all new. I would have recognized them if he had them prior to today. I've seen practically every fabric of this place. Without saying anything, or looking up from one paper he settled on, Enjolras set the contents in his arms down by Grantaire and walked over to the alcohol stand. I was on edge waiting for him. He was going to go for a glass of mead and get a mouth full of rum. It seemed to take forever. As if I was watching it in slow motion. He poured blindly as his face contorted in confusion at the document he was so keen on. He was killing me. Really, he was. In the end, though, it was all worth it. The look on his face when the rum went down his throat...the hacking that woke up Grantaire...I couldn't have asked for a better end product.

The drunk shot up and snapped towards his roommate. His eyes were wide and frightened.

"Are you drinking my brandy?" He hissed.

Enjolras's hand was on his throat as he threw Grantaire a glare. "Rum." He snapped.

"My rum? You're drinking my rum? Why? Do you know how much I paid for that?"

Oh, this was perfect.

"I didn't do it on purpose." Enjolras cleared his throat.

"I thought you could use a little loosening up after last night. I was a little rough on you." Grantaire's eyes lit up, and he gave a knowing smirk at Enjolras. Of course, he thought I was talking about having sex with Enjolras. But if Enjolras said anything, I could say I was talking about calling him a hypocrite. "It was a bit intense of me."

"Did she hurt you?" Grantaire asked with a grin when Enjolras stood above his pile.

"No." Enjolras stared at his friend for a moment. "My assumptions were more problematic at first." Aw. I think that was a public apology in Enjolras speak.

Grantaire shook his head. "You shouldn't assume. No one benefits from it. What did you assume? What did he assume?" Grantaire directed the last question at me with a sort of desperation.

I shrugged and looked at Enjolras, "I guess, what I like?"

Enjolras nodded, "I shouldn't have assumed you liked things that way."

"My God, man." Grantaire was quite funny to watch. "Who knew you were such a considerate guy? Way to be. A tough leader and a thoughtful lover."

"What did you just say?"

"Sorry. Fervent leader."

"No, you stupid drunk. I'm no one's lover. My only love is for my country." I rolled my eyes at Enjolras's generic comment. You'd expect something like that from a guy like him.

"Oh, that's right." Grantaire bit his top lip. "I wasn't supposed to say anything." He added throwing me an obvious wink. I rolled my eyes again. Yes, let's blatantly point out the person who gave you the false information. I'm guessing Grantaire wasn't any kind of Parisian spy.

Realization dawned on Enjolras's face, and he glanced at me. "She told you about last night?" I jerked my attention away from the drunk. Excuse me? "'Ponine, I thought I told you not to say anything? Do you think Grantaire can keep this a secret? He's going to go and blab to all of the ABC boys about us. They're not going to know how to handle this. I told you that." He walked towards me and took my hand. Okay, I'll admit I was taken aback even more than yesterday. Enjolras traced my jawline with his thumb. "It was supposed to be between us."

I put the tips of my fingers in his pants, and his faced turned to stone. He forgot who I was. "I couldn't help myself." I ran my hands up his chest and took his hands from my face and ran them down my side. Pressing myself close to him, I placed his hands on my bum. "Can you blame me?" I grinned mischievously as I traced my finger around his neck.

"I'm still here."

Enjolras, clearly uncomfortable, squirmed away from me and let out a frustrated sigh. "She's lying, you drunk." He bit. "She and I didn't do anything last night. I caught her running back to her parents' place, and she called me a hypocrite. That's all. This morning was all her own fantasizing based on nothing but our living proximity." Enjolras was no fun. We could have hoodwinked Grantaire.

"You called him a hypocrite?" Grantaire smiled when I nodded.

"You two." Enjolras grunted. "Thenardier, these are for you. Elle ordered them before she left, I suppose." He nodded to the boxes.

"For Marius's party?"

"No!" "What?" Enjolras and I snapped at the same time.

Marius was having a party? Why wasn't I told about it sooner? Elle and Enjolras, no doubt.

"You're not going." Enjolras pointed at me. "The ABC boys are holding a little gathering for Marius's birthday. You are going to stay here. This isn't debatable, so don't give me that look."

"Who are you to tell me where I can and cannot go? If I want to see Marius, I'm going to see him." I retorted.

"I think I'm the man who is letting you stay in his home while you heal from being beaten by a client." He barked. "I've allowed you to stay here out of the kindness of my heart."

I laughed harshly, "What heart?"

"I'm not playing around, Thenardier, you're staying here tomorrow night." He spat. "Or you'll be back at the Inn, doing what you're good at. And the next time Grantaire finds you beaten and mangled in some alley, he's going to leave you there." Enjolras snatched his papers up and started storming off towards his room.

"Excellent, monsieur," I clapped mockingly. "That's the exact attitude I look for in an oppressive ruler of my _patria_!" Enjolras's door slammed.

"Big words." Grantaire said awkwardly after sometime.

"I'm completely capable of reading texts, you ignorant ass." I seethed.

Grantaire didn't respond, whether it was because he was surprised or because out of disbelief, I didn't know. But it didn't matter to me. His next words were far more important than his doubt or belief in my reading ability.

"I can get you into the party," He offered. "If you want."

.

_5 January 1831_

Hissing at the pain, I squatted in Enjolras's windowsill, looking over the city below me. The sun was setting as the winter wind was picking up like it normally did around this time of year. I wasn't prepared for it at first, and it almost made me feel out of shape. There had only been one time when I was unprepared for the weather I had to venture out into. And that was when we first lost our savings all those years ago. Glancing down at the other sills and ledges, I took a breath. Why was I so afraid? I'd done this plenty of times before. I tossed my sack down, but I barely heard it land over the whistle of the wind. Grantaire had given me the information I needed to get into the celebration for Marius. It was at the cafe, but to keep outsiders out, some of the schoolboys came up with a password to be allowed entrance. I didn't care about the damned password, though. Depending on who was blocking the door, I was just going to tell them I had sex with Enjolras. That door would be open so quick...These boys are all such gossips at heart.

I checked to make sure my boots were laced properly before completely exiting the flat. My heart raced as I started climbing down from ledge to ledge, windowsill to windowsill. It didn't take me long to pick it back up. You never really forget the things you learned. I was thankful for that. In no time, my feet were on the ground, and my heart was returning to it's normal pace. Piece of cake. The hard part was going to be finding someone whose clothes I could fit into. I was planning on going where I know some urchins patrolled in hopes of a bourgeois brat. I'd give them my underclothes and the silver locket I found in return for their rags. Then with the one hundred francs I rounded up, I was going to get Marius that book he had been taking about for the past few weeks. Hopefully I was the first and only one to get it to him. I took the sack that had my hat and coat in it and started towards the urchins' area. It wasn't too long of a walk, not even in the bitter cold. It was just a lonely one. 'Parnasse and I use to go up there every once in a while and hand out the bread we had stolen from the Inn. I almost thought I missed him, but the ache of my body from the beating brought me back to reality. If he was off in some small town, dying from God knows what with God knows who, I wouldn't give a damn. The bastard deserved whatever misfortune he had coming to him.

"Are you lost, dearie?" A cracked voice came from one of the alleys in the urchins' area.

"How are your nights?" I asked, walking towards her. She was smaller than me, but we weren't picky if someone was going to offer us finer clothes. "I'm not going to report you. I'm not what I seem." I held out my hands in front of me for her to see. "I'm just like you."

"You don't look like one." The girl sneered.

"I've run into a bit of luck." I told her. "How are your nights?"

She looked down her nose at me with some contempt before giving in, "Not as good as they normally are. The weather has the brats staying indoors all night. No one wants to walk through the park when it's cold as ice." She admitted.

I nodded. "Will your clothes fit me?"

"You want my clothes? What am I to wear then?" She bit.

"I'll give you my dress."

The girl, who later told me that they called her Odie, was hesitant of me at first. She didn't understand why I wanted her rags for my fine dress. I promised her that if she wore the dress and walked aimlessly outside the cafes around the blocks, she would get business. All she had to do was call for the lover she lost to the French government. Schoolboys went crazy for broken damsels. I offered Odie the locket, too, so the boys wouldn't think she was just some urchin walking around in a fine dress. If they saw the trinket, they might think she belonged to some important family. I could twist her hair up and use my pins to keep it in place. That way her messy locks would be hidden from the do and the dark. The snow would clear the dirt of her face and maybe put a little a bit of moisture into her cracked and unhealthy lips. I would even give her my coat.

"I can't take your dress. You probably paid much for it, and I just couldn't." Odie shook her head.

"I am standing in front of you, begging that you give me your rags for this dress. It's not even mine. It belongs to the sister of the man I'm staying with. She has three closets full of dresses just like this one, if you don't take it, I'm just going to give it to some urchin who will." I snapped.

Odie stared at me. "You're staying with a bourgeois brat?"

"You want one? I can get you one tonight. You'll have a warm supper, a warm bed, and probably breakfast in the morning. Just trade me clothes." Odie caved. Thank you! Moving quickly, we both shed our clothes and traded them before the air could sting to horribly. I insulted her figure when I caught her staring at my bruises. Huh. I guess I was more like mama than I thought. "Have you been around the Cafe Musain?"

"I've heard of it. It's where those revolutionaries are plotting." She rolled her eyes. I smirked. This was Enjolras's audience.

"Yes. Well, that's where we're going." I said as we started walking towards he cafe. I adjusted her belt, so it fit at the top of my waist where the bruised skin hurt the least. "There's a gathering for one of the schoolboys. I wasn't invited, so I'm inviting myself."

"Why would you be invited?" She snickered.

I glared at her, "I'm their friend."

"Doesn't sound like it." She cackled. "If my friends are gathering, the invite me."

"You're a whore, you have no friends."

"Right. And what are you again?" Odie snorted. I could get along with her.

Odie was a sight to see cleaned up and dressed nicely. When we were in the alley where Montparnasse had beaten me, I put her hair up and washed the dirt off her with the snow on the ground. She had a darker complexion, but I didn't think it was from being outside all day. Maybe she had Indian in her heritage. You would think that a darker complexion would be off putting with blonde hair, but her hair was the right shade of blonde that it looked attractive with her color. I felt a tinge of jealousy washing over me. What if Marius liked her better than me? No, it wasn't possibly. He would be able to tell that she was some homely street urchin. Marius was too smart of a guy to be fooled by a little bit of water and fine fabric. Besides, tonight he was going to see me healthier than he ever had. He would see how soft my hair was coming to look, how my cheeks weren't sullen as they use to be, and how my bones didn't appear to be poking out like they always had. He was going to fall in love with me tonight, and no street urchin I picked up out of pity would prevent that from happening.

I handed my coat and hat to the bartender's sister. She usually wasn't here on Wednesday nights, since she had a husband and son in my part of town. But I didn't ask any questions as to why she was here. I just thanked her for taking my things and then led Odie down towards where the brats were gathering. I could hear them laughing and singing and chatting the closer we got to the door. My heartbeat picked up again. I was going to see Marius again. In a matter of hours he was going to realize how much he had always loved me. I ran my fingers through my hair and tried making it look less wind blown. I stopped fidgeting after a little more run throughs. Marius had seen my hair in much worse condition than wind blown. What I needed to do was settle down. Who was going to fall in love with a nervous wreck? I needed to calm down, take a breath, and be the the girl he had known for the past few years. Oh, damn it! I cursed under my breath. I was so busy trying to convince the little urchin to give me her clothes, I forgot all about Marius's book. I had half a mind to run to the nearest book store and find it, but we were already at the door. I'd have to think of something else.

"What do you desire?" A voice said after I knocked on the door. It was Courfeyrac. Perfect. He was Enjolras's little slave. He'd do anything to kiss his fearless leader's ass.

"In." I smirked to the door. It propped open a bit, so Courfeyrac could get a look at me. Enjolras warned him, no doubt. "Oh, come now, Courfeyrac, won't you let me in? You know I care deeply for Marius. Are you going to let some silly little law student tell you who you can and cannot allow to enter someone else's party?"

"Do you want me to answer that?"

I rolled my eyes, "I'm not even here to see Marius, if you must know." I put a hand on my abdomen as if something was beneath the skin and bone. With a lowered voice, I leaned in towards the door, "You mustn't tell anyone I'm telling you this, okay?"

Courfeyrac noticed my gesture and out of sheer curiosity that all schoolboys possess, he opened the door a bit more so he could hear me properly. "Alright, let's hear it." He whispered, sending a glance back at Odie cautiously.

"You've noticed I haven't been around for the past two weeks?" He nodded. "I've been with Enjolras." I told him. Courfeyrac stumbled and coughed on air, but he quickly regained his composure and beckoned for me to go on. "I have had some of the greatest days of my life, Julien. He makes me forget my past and live life in the present. But I fear now we must plan for the future." I put my other hand on my abdomen, too, and looked down partially ashamed of my lie child.

"Enjolras?" Courfeyrac managed to get out.

I wiped away a forced tear, "Please let me in? This is a nurse from the hospital, she's going to get me help if Enjolras won't." I waved my hand in Odie's direction.

"Yes, yes, of course." Courfeyrac motioned us in. "Are you feeling well?" He added while I looked around the room. Enjolras was deep in conversation with Lesgles, Grantaire was alone at a table with a jug of something. And Marius...I grinned. He was sitting in the corner while the party happened around him.

"A bit better if you'd fetch me something to ease the sick feeling?" Courfeyrac took off like a bat out of hell. I smirked after my handy work. Sucker. "Well, sweetie, take up any persona you want and mingle with the all the brats you want."

I remember one of the first times I had ever really talked to Marius. I was coming back from Montparnasse's and had run into Marius on the way back. He had all these books in his arms, and when I offered to help him carry them, he looked at me like I was crazy. I bet he thought a girl of my size wouldn't be able to carry anything heavier than her head on her shoulders. He said he had recognized me from running about the neighborhoods with my father. At the time I was proud to be recognized as a Thenardier, but looking back on it, I'm more pleased that he recognized me at all. We'd been friends ever since then. I don't know why, but we just seemed to click. Is it really so hard to see how in love we could be? Mama and Azelma always said that he was only my friend out of pity, but I refuse to believe it. Marius wasn't like that. He was sincere.

Courfeyrac came back with something for me to drink right as I gather up enough courage to talk to Marius. I wanted to rip the schoolboy's throat out, but I should have just sent him off by telling him I'd be better after talking to Enjolras. Now I was stuck with a drink I didn't want and a worrisome schoolboy. He was probably only worried because it was mine and Enjolras's lie child. If it was Grantaire's, he wouldn't even blink at it. I pretended to drink the God-awful concoction he had brought me. Well, I didn't want to be completely rude to me. After all, he had disobeyed his ruthless leader and let me in. Even if I had cooked up some far fetched lie. Courfeyrac finally let me off of all of his interrogating questions when someone called for him to join their conversation. About time. But when I went to converse with the person I had come to, my heart stopped and my stomach turned to acid. Someone else had caught his attention. His eyes were glued to her like she was his only hope of survival. I glanced around the room. Out of all the men here she had to choose my Marius? I felt the sting of tears welling up. No. Get a hold of yourself, Thenardier. He's not going to fall in love with her. He loves you.

"I put you through two whole days of detox, and the second I turn my head, you're back with a mug?" I took the seat opposite of Grantaire. "That alcohol will be the death of you." I added.

"You sneak out to come, and you end up talking with me? Couldn't you have waited til I got home?"

"I'm just...waiting for my turn." I said.

Grantaire looked around for Marius and found him in the corner with Odie. "Oh. Sorry, I hadn't realized he brought someone."

"He didn't." I told him sourly. "I brought her. I promised to take her if she gave me her clothes in exchange for her own." I nodded to myself. "It's the dress. That's why he looks so smitten with her. I should have just come like that. He loves a girl in a fine dress." I think I was trying to convince myself more than the old drunk.

"Yeah, I'm sure that's what it is." Grantaire shook his head.

"I'll just wait here."

"Or you can wait at the flat where you belong." I rolled my eyes at Enjolras's voice. Yes, he's exactly who I wanted to see right now. "I told you not to come here, Thenardier, or I'd kick you out." His voice was deathly low.

"Oh, Enjolras, leave her be." Grantaire slid his mug towards me. "Her efforts are fruitless anyway." He jerked his head towards Marius.

Better watch it, Enjolras, someone might see that weakness on your face and think you're not as strong as you say you are. Enjolras sat down next to me and patted my back awkwardly. He told me that Marius was just a poor, hopeless romantic who wouldn't be able to see a great woman in front of him if she held a sign announcing herself. Grantaire raised the jug in agreement. I refused to let the brats see me weak, so I just said that the only reason Marius was talking to her was because she was in the dress I was meant to wear. I know they thought it was a pathetic reason, but I can't help it if the truth is pathetic. It's the truth. I'm sure that if I had wore that dress and just came straight here, then Marius would be smitten with me and not some random street urchin I pulled from an alley not an hour ago. Enjolras offered to walk me home, and I was about to accept; but not a moment after we rose to go, my worst nightmare burst through the door.

**So...who do you think walked through the door? **

**Also, I've totally been creeping on the 2012 Les Miserables film; and I saw some interesting news the other day. What are your thoughts on Taylor Swift playing Eponine?**

**Please review! They mean oh so much to me!**

**:)**


	5. A Lady

**Hey! I'm really glad that you all are liking this! It fuels my fire:)**

**Short, filler chapter...**

**Disclaimer: I will own Phantom's 25th in LESS than a MONTH!**

Enjolras held the cafe door open for me as we left the damned place. I was bitter. I was crushed. I was all these terrible emotions that kept reminding me of how Azelma and mama might be more right than I give them credit for. Was I really that meaningless to Marius that he could jump from one nice dress to a finer one at the thoughless action of a glance? One moment he has all eyes for a tramp like Odie, but when his dark-haired angel shows up, she's his lifeline? Did he even care about me? If I had been wearing my dress would he have moved on from me when the girl walked in? No. Well, maybe. But if he had stayed and talked to me, would it have only been out of pity? Would he have rather left me to sulk, as always, while he flirted with other girls far more beautiful than me? I had never thought of that before. Did Marius only talk to me because he pitied me for being poor and homely? It would explain why he didn't notice me at the party and why he hasn't given me one thought in my entire absense. Of course, how could I be so stupid? He was so handsome and educated. He would never love someone like me. I was an uneducated, homely, and poor urchin who was destined for a life of whoring herself. Marius was meant to be with some beautiful, rich, and well-educated woman who was so classy that even the royals from all around looked to her for advice. He deserved the very best.

"You know Pontmercy is fickle, right?" Enjolras interrupted my thoughts with an insult.

"He's perfect." I retorted.

He snorted, "The boy is hardly anywhere near perfect. He doesn't know what he wants nor what he has. You're a true and loyal friend to him, you even risked losing shelter to see him, and he's a fool for not seeing it."

"I'm the fool." I defended Marius. "Marius is like that apple at the very top of the tree. You see it every day, and it's red and ripe. Light hits it so perfectly and there is not one imperfection on it, and you know that it has to be just as good as the inside as it is on the outside. The trick is reaching it. You know what I'm talking about?" I stared down at the pavement with a lost-in-my-thoughts smile.

"An idea, I think." Enjolras muttered in agreement.

I laughed, "France doesn't count, monsieur."

"I wasn't talking about France." Enjolras said

What? I tore my attention away from the ground and looked at him. Enjolras had a lady? Well, I can honestly say this was a shock. Who would have thought? He was so broodish and stoic all the time, and now I learn he's just as romantic as those books he reads? I let out a fit of giggles, which earned me a strange look from the brat.

"What's she like?" I felt like I could have been talking to Azelma. I hadn't talked to anyone about anything so personal sine Azelma and I roamed the neighborhood the Monday before my leave. "How long have you known her? Does she know? I can't believe you have feelings for anyone or anything aside from this damned country."

Enjolras scratched the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I've known her for sometime now, through a friend mostly. She doesn't know. I don't really know. Just leave it, alright?"

"Leave it? Don't you understand? This is like me telling Grantaire we slept together. You keep me cooped up in that damned flat everyday with no outside knowledge;then you come and tell me you're sweet on a lady, and you expect me to drop it? What is wrong with you?"

"I don't really know her yet, Thenardier." He spat. "It's new territory for me. I study law not you blasted ladies. I'd just like to figure out what she's like, really."

I grinned, "I can help you get her attention."

"She wouldn't take it."

"Pessimist"

"She's just like Pontmercy."

Enjolras rolled his eyes at my harsh laugh.

"Guys would throw themselves at her if she just gave them a glance."

"I'm sure if you catch her eye at the right time, she'll notice. I'm going to help you win her heart. I may just be a street urchin, but I am still a female and know what we most desire." I told him. "That's how we'll spend our Mondays." I added as we walked into the flat.

"I would feel like I would owe you some lessons in return."

"Teach me to read" I waved my hand dismissively.

"You already know how."

I wheeled around to face him, "What? No, I don't."

Enjolras gave me the look he gives Grantaire when Grantaire says he hasn't had much to drink. "Come now. I'm missing books and finding random ones in their place. You're hiding them under Grantaire's mattress. You used a quote of Voltaire's at dinner the other day when you were reprimanding Joly, Grantaire, and me on our intended involvement in the politics of the slums. I caught you reading in the kitchen when you were supposed to be making tea, and I've seen you reading when you wait about the cafe for Pontmercy. I may give all my focuse to my studies, but I am not oblivious to those around me."

"Noted." I didn't know what else to say. I mean, what would anyone would have said? I was taken aback by this new Enjolras. He has feelings. He likes people. He notices things that aren't France, law, or philosophical. I was surprised. There was more to Enjolras than history had told me.

**I know it isn't much of anything, but it's sort of setting a stage for them. Sorry for the shortness:( hopefully I get time this weekend to write! Please review, they bring so much happiness to my dull college life:)**


	6. Thenardier

**Okay, this is a real chapter! A pretty drama filled one, too.**

**So, from last chapter, the girl Enjolras was talking about is Eponine. It's really not meant to be secret. Eponine is just going to be oblivious to it.**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter! Let me know if you like the means Eponine goes to get Enjolras's attention;)**

_10 January 1831_

I stared at Enjolras as he flipped through his law book, writing down notes about various things he encountered in his reading. He'd been in here all morning from the time Joly came by just after sunrise to check my bruises. It was mid-afternoon now, and I was about to go crazy from the silence. Normally silence doesn't bother me, but it's only because no one else is around to make a sound. Enjolras was here, though. He hadn't even got up to pee or take a drink. What the hell? I shifted in my seat, making sure to make as much noise as possible, trying to get the brat's attention. Nothing happened. He just sat on the couch, legs crossed, books and papers in his lap, scowling down at the book. Seriously? Did he really expect me to keep myself entertained? What was I supposed to do with him here? Everything I usually did had to be done in secrecy, so that he could find it out for himself when he was walking around the flat. I rolled my eyes and got out of the chair (which also earned no reaction). Fine. I'd screw around in the flat while he was here. Not like he'd even notice.

Being 'respectful' of his studies, I walked quietly around the parlor and some of the other rooms. What could I switch around? I went into the kitchen and hid some things and took other into the dining area. There really wasn't much I could do that I already hadn't the other day when I was messing with things. I just wish Enjolras would find them soon, so I could mix more things up. Unsuccessful, I sulked back into the parlor. Do I even need to tell you where Enjolras was planted? Enjolras! Man! This was getting ridiculous. It had been at least five hours. His butt had to hurt. Or he had to at least be hungry. Something.

I grinned unabashedly to myself. I was Eponine Thenardier. I could get anyone's attention. After fetching the map of Paris from the dining area, I stood in front of the chair I had been sitting in, the one right across from Enjolras. First, I stepped out of my shoes. Next, I slowly undid the buttons on my dress, staring intently at Enjolras the entire time. As if he would sense my stare. If he did, he didn't show it. Moving quicker, I rid the rest of my clothes and kicked them aside until I was standing in front of Enjolras in nothing but stockings, barely covered by the map.

"Put it back Thenardier." Enjolras muttered when he had heard the map crinkle. He still didn't look up.

"If you and your hardest member were going to explore new territory, how would you proceed?" I asked seductively.

"Hardest member? You mean toughest member?" Enjolras scribbled down something.

"You tell me." I smirked.

He probably intended just to give me a quick, condescending glance before returning to his work; but I was standing mostly naked in front of him. To say I had caught his attention would be an understatement. Partial nudity is always more appealing than full on nude. Partial gives the mind freedom to wonder. I mean, yeah, he's already seen me naked. But now? I was barely covered by a small map. In the back of his male mind he was probably turned on. Two days ago, I wouldn't have believed it, but now I know he's just like any other man with dreams and desires. Sexual ones, I mean. Enjolras had given me a double glance, his mouth ajar. It took him a moment, but that good ole Enjolras that we all know and love came back.

"What are you doing?" He barked. Hey! I was right! I smiled at my work after looking down at his deceitful anatomy. He could talk the talk, but obviously walking the walk was another story. "Put your clothes back on!"

"Are you sure you really want me to?" I asked, letting the map slip in my hands a bit.

"Thenardier!" He hissed, turning around.

"Do you not want to see me? Or do you not want _me _to see _you_?" I nearly giggled. He was such a little boy.

He repeated himself more firmly.

God, he was no fun. I tossed the map to the side and stepped back into my clothing, taking less time to put them on than I did to take them off. Well, at least I got his attention. I told you I could get it. He was going to have to get comfortable with naked ladies anyway. If he wanted to land this little lady he was after, he needed to man up. There is a strong possibility that she may be the only girl to ever get his attention for the next ten years. Look at it, he's what? Twenty-five and this lady is the first or second lady he's ever had feelings for? It's like one girl per decade? Gaining Enjolras's attention is like a rarity. If this girl knew what was good for her, she would take his advances and never let him go. He was rich, handsome, educated, strong-willed. What high society lady wouldn't want him? Hell, what urchin wouldn't want him? Surely they wouldn't know him like his friends and I do. So, really, he has a very strong chance of winning this girl's heart. Anyway, Enjolras needed to make himself comfortable with things like this if he inteded to keep his family name alive and thriving. I recoiled at the thought a bit. Good Lord, can you even begin to imagine three or four little Enjolras children running around Paris? Causing havoc for the gendarmes and the residents of the slums.

I snickered, and Enjolras stole a glance over his shoulder. He was blushing.

"Are you incapable of keeping your clothes on?" He snapped as he organized the books and papers that were strewn on the couch.

"Only around you." I teased with an eye roll. "Can't we do something? You've been sitting there since Joly came by. Let's go to the winter market, stroll the promenade, walk around the university."

"You know you can't go outside right now." Enjolras reminded me as he began reading again. Well, not really reminded me...I was reminded of my situation every time I woke up in Grantaire's bed, seeing the city through his window.

"Can you cook at all?" I asked him. "Or are we to starve while Grantaire and Elle are away?"

"A bit." Enjolras shrugged. "Nothing like Joly."

"Will you teach me?" I smoothed out a wrinkle in the fabric of my dress. Enjolras looked up from his book. "Well, my intuitions are pretty good, so maybe with your basic knowledge and my insticts, we can come up with something edible."

He seemed to consider it for a second but ended up shaking his head. "Maybe over the course of the week. I'll get some food from the market tomorrow on my way home from classes." Enjolras went back to reading his book and left me in total silence. Really? Didn't we just go over how much of a problem this could turn into? I was not one to be ignored.

"Seriously? Do I have to take my clothes off again?"

"Thenardier!" Enjolras exclaimed. "I'm trying to read! Can't you shut your trap for fifteen minutes?"

"No. I've shut it for the past five hours. It's time to put your book down, the slums can manage without your schoolboy interventions, and be respectful of your guest." I reprimanded.

Enjolras snapped his book shut and caved in on teaching me some things about cooking today. In grinned, satisfited as I hurried after him. I always got what I wanted. That's why I was sure Marius and I would be together in the end. These girls meant nothing, they were just him looking through garbage to find the jewel. A few more pounds and my set routine then Marius would love me as much as I love him. We could run from Paris to a little town and live on a farm. We'd have three children, two boys and the youngest a girl. They'd all have his curly hair and lovely eyes. I'd teach them how to read, and Marius would teach them to write. We'd take family vacations up to a summer cottage in London where Azelma would be living with an English suitor. It was going to happen. We were all going to be happy and live longer than any slum resident usually lives.

"Fetch twio knives and an onion from over there." Enjolras instructed. He opened the cabinet where the pots and pans once were, only to find it empty of the items he needed. "I see you redecorated." He added with a grunt.

"I knew how much you'd love it." I smirked. "On the bottom to your right." I took the knife and onion over to Enjolras and set them on the counter. "So what are we going to make?"

"Potage of onion." He put a pan on the stove and a drop of butter in it. "Take the onion and bisect it." Enjolras motioned with his hands and an imaginary onion how he expected me to make the cut. "The other way. There you go. Now give me half of it." I passed him the smalled half. "Cut that half like this one." He began cutting his portion of the onion into thin slices, I was nearly afraid that he'd cut a finger off. He was moving so quickly, but by the time he was almost done, the onions slivers were perfect. Enjolras opened his mouth to say something, but a knock on the door interrupted him. "Cut yours like this, don't rush, and watch the butter. Put all the onions in the pan if you get done before I come back."

A louder knock.

"Do I stir it?"

"Yes," He opened the drawer where a spatula had once been.

I grinned. "Second drawer from the window."

"With a spatula." He said through gritted teeth before leaving the kitchen.

Cooking was fun.

I sliced slowly as I tried making my onion look like the one Enjolras had cut. I didn't really mind if I messed up the onion as I cut it, I was too concerned about keeping my fingers firmly attached to my hand. The knife was the sharpest one I had ever used, and I had used a fair share of knives in my day. I shook my head in amusement. Who would have thought dirty, ratty Eponine Thenardier would be making potage of onion with a bourgeois brat? I had barely cut through the first slice when I heard Enjolras open the door and greet the guest in surprise. The knife in my hand dropped to the floor with a clang at the sound of his name. No. It couldn't be. He had found me? Maybe someone told him. I wiped my hands roughly on my dress, hoping the stench of the onions would fade. I smoothed out my dress and fluffed my hair and tried making it look the way he might like it.

"What are you doing here?" I heard Enjolras ask when I got to the door.

"I had to see if it was true." He knew I was here! I peeked into the parlor. "It was incredibly nice of you to do!" Marius smiled, and I melted. I missed that smile. It seemed like I hadn't seen it in ages.

"It's not a problem." Enjolras gave his upper arm a squeeze. "Is that all? Don't you have classes?"

"I skipped them to see her." Marius grinned like a goof. Did he really? I knew studying was important to him, but it made my heart soar to hear that he would risk an absense just to see me. He really did love me. I could be wearing rags or fine dresses, and he would still love me.

"Marius..."

"I'm on top of my studies." Marius waved his hand. "Besides, Bellatrice is only in town for the next two weeks, and I want to spend as much time as I can with her. I thank you for inviting her. It was the best birthday present I could have gotten." I abruptly pulled away from the door, colliding with something behind me, causing all it's contents to clatter to the floor.

What did he just say? Enjolras invited that blue-eyed little bimbo to Marius's party? No. He couldn't have. He knows how deeply I care for Marius and how hard I've been trying to win his affections. Enjolras wasn't that type of guy. Was he? I mean, I really knew nothing about him. If he was capable of betraying the French royals, surely he had enough spite in him to betray a poor urchin with deep feelings for his friend. I could feel the tips of my ears growing red. I couldn't believe he would do something like this. That dirty rat!

"Eponine..." Enjolras walked into the kitchen cautiously. I snatched the knife from the counter and pointed it at him accusingly. Enjolras looked at me doubtfully, "Put the knife down before you hurt yourself."

"Well, I can't hurt myself more than you already have. Anything else would merely be a flesh wound." I hissed.

"You're being melodramatic."

"And you're traitorous!"

Enjolras laughed at me, "Inviting a girl to Marius's party is hardly a traitorous action."

"It is when you know how I feel about him!"

"Everyone knows how you feel about him. I owe you no special treatment just because you're living under my roof."

"Did anyone else invite a girl for Marius to swoon over?" I paused. No response. "Common decency would be nice." I waved the knife around. "Just because the lady you desire doesn't desire you, doesn't give you the right to come between mine and Marius's relationship!" I added roughly.

"What relationship?" Enjolras snorted. "You're like his puppy dog! He gave you a taste of admiration, and you're running with it like you're meant for each other! Wise up, Eponine!"

"Marius and I-"

"Marius doesn't love you!" He barked.

I snapped my mouth shut.

"He never has." Enjolras added.

I slammed the knife down on the counter and stormed out of the room. He was lying. Marius loved me. We had a special connection that had been holding strong until Enjolras went and screwed with it. I slammed Grantaire's bedroom door as loud as I could and started peeling off my clothes. I was shown more consideration and respect back at the Inn. This place was making me crazy. Elle and Grantaire had been more than hospitable to me, but Enjolras was a force I could not handle. He's incapable of making a lady love him, so he has to ruin my shot with Marius? I didn't play that way. I threw all of Elle's clothes in a pile at the foot of Grantaire's bed and started putting on Odie's rags from last Wednesday. Who was I kidding? I didn't belong in this flat. I had a better shot of winning Marius over if I was on the streets, it had been working in the past. Staying cooped up here was keeping me from achieving my full potential with Marius.

"Get out." Enjolras barged in, and I threw a shoe at him as I quickly laced one of my boots up.

"Thenardier, don't be dumb."

"I'm dumb now? No wonder Marius doesn't love me." I hissed.

"You're dumb if you really thought Marius loved you! How long have you been pawning after him? How long has he been completely disregarding your advances and asking you to chase after girls he swoons for that week? How can you not see that he doesn't care for you like you do for him? Even Grantaire sees! Even Elle knew you as the silly girl who'd been trailing after Pontmercy!"

"She was helping me win his attention." I said sourly.

"You could be wearing a sign with his name on it, and Marius still wouldn't give you a second look." Enjolras bit.

"Yes, well, as fun as arguing with a prude has been, I'm leaving." I brushed past him. "If you try and come after me, I'll have my father on you. You'll regret it."

.

"I can't believe you came back." Azelma shook her head as she dabbed the cuts on my face and neck with a wet rag. "You knew he was going to act like this. You're lucky he even left you alive." She added as mama passed by the room, giving the two of us a curt look before going on.

Mama had stood aside while father did his damage. She only did it to hold Azelma back from trying to save me and getting herself in trouble while she pursued her thoughless actions. I guess, after all of it was over, I was just thankful that he left my torso alone. Father wasn't that kind of man anyway. He left his mark, so everyone who saw you would know that you had crossed a Thenardier. He taught me how to leave the same mark. I left it on people's neck, right above their jugular, so they know a bit more pressure and I could have taken their lives. Azelma told me it was very morbid of me. I'd never kill a person unless I was put in a position of them or me, though. Father left it on the cheek. You can't hide it even if you've bowed your head. I brought my hand up to the marking. It was much smoother than any of mine had been. I used my nails, though. Azelma swatted my hands away from the wound, telling my I'd get it all infected if I went about touching it. I had to bite back tears. I've only ever watched father carve it into someone else. I never thought I'd have it happen to me. I relished that I was his girl. But now...was I nothing more than a roasted beast to him?

"It would've been better if he had killed me." I sniffed, wiping away a tear.

"What are you talking about?" Azelma slapped my shoulder.

"Nothing." I muttered. Azelma wouldn't understand about Marius. She would just side with that schoolboy brat. She and mama had never been fond of mine and Marius's relationship. They were just ignorant to what love was. Azelma had never been in love, and mama had settled. What did they know about anything?

"'Zel," Father stood in the doorway with mama watching nervously behind him. "Give your sister and me a moment. Go with your mother to tend the bar, customers'll be coming down and in soon."

"I've already apologized." I snapped.

"I'm not here for your apologies, girl." Father spat. "Who were you staying with? Aiden? I want the money I'm owed."

"I don't owe you anything." I spit at his feet.

He back handed me across the face, the force behind it knocked me down and probably opened the closed wound. I let out an involuntary cry when father got me on my feet by clutching my neck and yanking up. I held onto his thick arm, trying to pry it off me as I hacked and gagged for air. Maybe if I stopped fighting he'd let me go. But I couldn't. My body and mind wouldn't let me let him get the best of me. So I kicked his shins, scratched his beefy arm, and anything else I could think of. Father threw me to the ground and brushed off his clothes like my fighting had merely allowed dust to settle all over him. I forgot my kicks and punches never break through his blubber. I rubbed my neck in circles. There was a bruise forming, I could feel it. It was my fault he did this. I knew better than to talk like that to him. Years of it had taught me that. Shakily, I got to my feet and calmed myself, so I could talk to my father like all he had done was ask me who I was with the past few weeks.

"This family named Nolet. I met their daughter after I woke up in a pile of snow the morning after my night with Aiden." I lied. "I was sick. She took me in." I added simply.

"That's my girl. It's why you're my favorite, you know that, right? You're still top of your game when you're sneaking out on responsibility." Father shook his head with a proud smile. "Nolet you said?"

I nodded.

"They're well off, aren't they?"

"Extremely. The have more bedrooms than family members."

"Did you tell them who you are?"

"Of course not." I rubbed my rib cage softly when he looked out the window as he recounted the name.

My father snapped his fingers, "Are they the ones who own that little perfume shop? I knew it! You're my girl!" Father kissed each of my cheeks and patted my good one affectionately. "You'll run these streets someday, princess. You're going to be bigger than this hum drum Inn. You'll be twice what I ever was. Scum bags and urchins alike will bow at your feet." Queen of the Slums...just the title I always wanted...

"Papa," Azelma popped in after quietly knocking. "There's a man downstairs. He wants a month and is willing to pay more than half of it up front for 'Ponine." Azelma looked at me sheepishly then back at father.

"More than half?" A wicked grin washed over father's face. "Come on, girl."

Azemla and I walked behind father as he hurried towards the money. I held 'Zelma's hand while we walked. Life was too unfair. I had just gotten my sister back, and now I was to leave her for another month? And how was I to keep trying for Marius if I was with some dirty, old greaser? I'd have to find something to slip in his drink when he wasn't watching just so I could go out and about. A whole month? I don't think I was capable of standing that much sex. Knowing these crabs who come through here, they'd want it more than once a day. Father would put a month at thirty one days, to get the most money out of the creep, so if you think about it...God, I don't even want to think about it. I just wanted to cry. I didn't want to do this anymore. I shouldn't have come back to the Inn. I should have took refuge at Montparnasse's old flat until someone came in under new ownership. I would have saved myself the beating, the bruises, and the cuts. And this. I blinked hard to keep the tears from marking me a weak link.

When we got down stairs, mama was standing behind the bar, staring at the creep who was going to make my life hell for the next month. Azelma gave my hand a squeeze, and I could see a sly smile tug the corner of her lips up. My stomach dropped. You've got to be kidding me. I didn't even have to see him to know who it was. I broke away from Azelma and moved to the side, a step behind my father. There he stood, a few paces from our doorway. He had a fine red vest with gold decor on under his coat. It was probably his best vest, and he was only wearing it to make father think he was more important than her was. He was holding a deep red carnation against his chest with his right hand, and his left hand was tucked into his coat (where his money was, no doubt). His eyes flickered to the mark on my cheek then back to my father. I scowled at him. I would have rather dealt with a corroding, old grease rat.

"Monsieur Thenardier." Enjolras bowed respectfully.

"Monsieur..." Father waited for Enjolras to fill in the blank.

"Durand."

"Durand? Are you-"

Enjolras cut my father off, "I'm their only son." He said it as a final statement of that topic. "As you're aware, I have the money to pay in advance for Eponine. I've heard whispers, and I'm sure she won't disappoint." Enjolras glanced at me. "And I have a friend who would like to break your youngest in." I didn't like the way he said it. He sounded like the others who come here asking for me. Enjolras handed my father a pouch with his insignia on it and then one with Grantaire's on it after that. Good God.

"Azelma isn't for sale." Mama growled.

"Shut up, woman." Father sent a silencing glare at her before peeking in the pouch that Enjolras intended for Azelma. He laughed at what he saw in it. "She sure is for this amount." He tossed the pouch to mama and shoved Azelma over to Enjolras. The fear in her eyes was clearly evident. Of course she was afraid. She had no idea what to expect. She knew Enjolras was kind to me in allowing me to stay. But friend it such a broad term. Maybe if she had gotten a look at the pouch she wouldn't have been so fearful.

"Mama!" Azelma choked out, begging mama to step up. Mama shook her head. No doubt the money was too much to argue with. I wished I could have soothed her, but Azelma wouldn't look at me.

"Ninny," Father jerked his head for me to join him in the corner. He only called me that in front of customers to give the illusion that I was worth something to him. It's a nickname, a pet name. "I want you taking this sucker for all he's worth."

I put my hands on my hips and glanced over my shoulder at Enjolras. He was staring at my cheek again. "He's the one they all talk about." I whispered to my father. "One of those law students. I know his flat, I can clear it out if I have your word to let Azelma go at the end of this bargain." Father considered it for a second. "I'll do whatever you want if you let her go."

"I'll let you both go if you leave him dry."

I nearly forgot to breath.

"How dry?"

He stole a glimpse at Enjolras. "You can never be too greedy when it comes to the Durands. And if he really is a Durand, I assure you, his father will pay anything to keep this quiet. Take him for all he's worth." Father repeated. He grabbed my shoulder and steered me towards Azelma and Enjolras. "Eponine is my best girl, I'm taking this as half up front and will be expecting the rest when you return her."

"You're going to regret this." I snapped once Azelma, Enjolras, and I were safe outside of the Inn. "I told you to leave me alone."

"Because being back was so healthy." Enjolras bit, talking about the mark on my cheek.

"He threatened to kill her next time." Azelma wiped a tear away.

I rolled my eyes. "It is what it is now, I suppose." I gave Enjolas a lingering kiss on the cheek, just on the cusp of his jawline, and took the carnation from his hand, allowing my fingers to graze over his skin softly. "It just means you get more chances to see me exposed." I winked at him teasingly and started towards the neighborhood that had become familiar to me over the past few weeks.

**So...? Can you see how Eponine's deal with the devil will bite her in the butt in later chapters? I'd really like to know what you're thinking, so leave it in a review, please:) :)**

**Happy Reviewing(:**


	7. Green Fairy

**DID YOU HEAR! Samantha Barks is playing Eponine in the movie! I was so happy, my voice went up several octaves when I was telling my friend about it! So, I was SO excited that I came and finished the chapter! Hope you like it! It's full of some good stuff;)**

**Disclaimer: I'll own Phantom's 25th in like TWO WEEKS!**

_10 January 1831_

The dim light of a candle cast dark shadows under Enjolras's door as he must have been pacing back and forth. I had been standing in front of his door since the light was much brighter and murmurs from him reading his chapter could be heard. Now it was me who was the loud one. My palms were starting to dampen, and my heart was pounding so loud in my chest that I was certain Enjolras would hear it. What was I so nervous about? It was just a question. I'd asked plenty of questions in my lifetime, too many questions if you ask my mama. Maybe deep down I was afraid of what he would say, or what the eventual outcome would be. I shook my head and ran my fingers through my hair. I could do this. After a deep breath and a few more inspirational thoughts, I knocked lightly on Enjolras's door. It was a shaky and uncertain knock, but at least I had finally mucked up the courage to even do that. The shadow behind the door stopped moving for a moment before growing larger as it neared the door. Within a matter of moments a bed-ready Enjolras opened it up. I had to bite my bottom lip to keep from making a saucy remark.

"Eponine." He sounded surprised. As if anyone else would come to his door in the middle of the night. Honestly. What other women?

"I thought you'd have gone to bed by now." I acted like I hadn't been standing outside of his room for the better half on an hour.

"I was just going over some lectures." Enjolras scratched the back of his head. "What is it?"

"Azelma's taken over all of the bed." I looked down coyly. "I've no where to sleep."

"Oh." Enjolras said dumbly.

"Yeah."

"Well, you can take my bed. I'll sleep on the couch." He opened his door to let me in.

"It isn't dry yet." I told him. Earlier today when we were having drinks, I 'accidentally' dropped the entire kettle of tea on the couch...my bad. His back stiffened up once he realized the sleeping arrangements I was implying. "You know, nevermind." I waved my hand dismissively. "I'll just sleep on the floor in Grantaire's room."

"No, no," Enjolras sounded horribly uncomfortable. "I wouldn't trust his floor. Well, uh...if you sleep on this portion of the bed," He mapped out a narrow sliver on his bed for me then one for himself, "I'll sleep on this portion." He nodded down at his bed. "Yeah, we can make that work." I didn't answer because I figured the kook was talking to himself.

"If it's going to make you uncomfortable, Enjolras, I can sleep on the floor. Really."

"No, I can handle it." He muttered, studying his bed.

I smiled to myself as I climbed into his bed with him. Poor Enjolras, though. He took forever getting into bed and getting situated into a position where he could sleep easily. I'd been planning all day how to get Azelma and I out of the Inn and all the difficulties that come with living in it. There were so many things I could do and would do. Father was a crook, but if he told you he was going to do something, you could be sure that he would do it. So I had no doubt that if I took Enjolras for every last cent, Azelma and I would be bound for a new life in a matter of a month and a half. I was going to wait til Enjolras fell asleep for some time then eventually cuddle up next to him, as if we had found each other in the middle of the night. I was really hoping that he moved around in his sleep, that way it wouldn't seem like I had found my way to him. I mean, either way, he'd be so incredibly awkward in the morning, but it would just suit me better if we went half and half with this thing.

"Enjolras?" I whispered after a few minutes. I knew he was up. He kept tossing a turning on his little piece of bed.

"What?" He grunted.

"Thank you." I turned to face him but only got his side.

He was staring up at the ceiling, shaking his head, "Don't think on it. I really don't trust the cleanliness of Grantaire's floor."

"I mean for the other thing."

"I'm not going to apologize for inviting the girl to Pontmercy's party." Enjolras said. "It's better that you get it through your head now while there's still time for you to find someone else."

"Like who?" I snorted softly.

"Someone who deserves you." Enjolras sent me a side glance, his eyes lingering on my cheek again.

"It stands for Tau, in case you were wondering. And by the looks you've been giving it all day, I'm guessing you are. Or Thenardier. It's our signature if you ever cross us. My father says it goes as far back as he can remember. His father got it, his father's father...My grandfather promised my father that he would never do it to him, but when my father was a little boy, my grandfather use to beat the mark into his back with a switch...told him it's the mark of Cain." Enjolras turned to face me. "He was a religious man after my grandmother died when my father was five. If you ask my father about his mark, he'll show you. He wears his scars proud. Says if he can withstand a batty religious fool, then he can take on anything life throws his way. It's kind of admirable, isn't it? Once we lost everything is when he started doing it to people he consorted with. Montparnasse was the first one I got to watch him give it to. He has his right here." I traced my fingers along Enjolras's cheek where Montparnasse would have his scar.

Enjolras flinched at my touch, but surprised me when he took my hand and kept it on his cheek. I almost broke down under the gaze he was giving me. It was so full of some emotion that I couldn't pin down. It made me feel so small.

"I leave mine here." I said softly, trailing my hand down to his neck as I scooted closer to him. I could feel his pulse pounding. I wondered if he could feel mine, too. It was beating so hard that I was afraid it would burst before I got the opportunity to get any money out of Enjolras. Lightly, I traced the mark above his jugular. "I use my nails. I don't press to hard to leave anything but a vanishing red mark. But it's enough. It lets the people know that had I added any more pressure, I could have taken their lives. My father uses the only thing his father left him."

Enjolras moved his hand to my cheek, gently grazing his fingers over the mark. "A knife." He muttered, his breath bouncing off my face.

"From an old war." My voice wasn't coming out right. It was weak and barely audible. There was a fire in my core that I hadn't intended to be there tonight but was well aware of. I left a lingering kiss on his hand and was going to move closer to him, nearly eliminating the space between us; Enjolras beat me to it, though. I could feel the excitement coursing through his body and his night clothes. "I'll forever be branded by the mark of Cain. I'm damned."

"No." He cooed.

"Delilah." My lips ghosted over his.

"Never."

I slid my leg over his hip and pressed myself as close as I could to him without touching his lips. One of us moaned when my hips involuntarily rolled into his. I'm not certain who, but did it really matter?

"Say my name." Our lips were a breath away from touching.

"Eponine." Enjolras ran his finger across my jawline and slowly made to close the remaining space between my lips and his.

"Again." I nudged his nose.

"Eponine." He breathed lustfully.

"'Ponine!" Azelma's shriek came from down the hall.

All the blood that had situated itself in one area of my body suddenly dispersed, and all the will that had left my body came hurtling back. Both caused my face to heat up and me to scramble away out of the bed. With Enjolras hot on my heels, we rushed to Grantaire's room. Azelma, shaking and sobbing, was fumbling with the matches as she tried lighting her candle. She was lonely? Was that it? Lonely? She woke up to find me gone, and that's what caused her to freak out? I could have killed her. I had been second away from closing the first step to our new lives, and she completely ruined it. Do you understand how hard it's going to be to get Enjolras back in that position again?

"'Zelma? What's wrong?" I tried sounding concerned.

She said something incoherent followed by, "Where were you?"

"Getting some water." I lied then turned to Enjolras, leaning against the door frame to block Azelma's view. "Thank you, monsieur, for showing concern at my sister's screams, but I've got this now. I'll see you in the morning." I added, running my fingers lightly down his arm. Enjolras snatched his arm away and after a curt bow, hurried to his room.

Azelma eyed me carefully as I crossed the room and reentered Grantaire's bed. I really hope Enjolras lived up to his promise from earlier in the day. He told Azelma and me that he would have Grantaire back here in four days time even if he had to leave the city and drag him by his ear. The probability of him doing it was slim. I mean, this was Enjolras. The only thing that would distract him from his school work would have to be the revolution itself. He was such a snob. I barked at Azelma to get back into bed after I caught her staring at me, like she was looking for an answer to a question she hadn't asked yet. She was so nosy. Always having to know everything about everyone. That's the problem with us Thenardiers. We don't understand what isn't our business, isn't our business.

"Eponine..." Azelma asked as we laid in bed, side-by-side, staring up. "Did Enjolras have a-"

"Yes."

"We you really getting-"

"Of course I was."

"Good. For a second there I thought you were being disloyal to Monsieur Marius." I could hear the smirk in her voice. "I think I'm going to enjoy being here for the next month. Enjolras is rather attractive, isn't he?"

"I hadn't noticed." I lied, feeling an pit of acid in my stomach. I couldn't help but feel a bit possessive. I flopped over onto my side, cringing at the pain the movement caused my fresh bruises. Enjolras touch still lingered on my cheek where he had traced the mark. I brought my hand up to it, not touching it...I was afraid the feeling would leave if I had. "I wouldn't bank on his affections, 'Zel. Sometimes I hear him and Grantaire playing around in his bedroom at night." I lied again. Because I didn't need her going and messing with all my plans. Of course.

_14 January 1831_

Guess what? I was right. Enjolras avoided me like the plague. I even spent all day Wednesday putting his flat back to the way he liked it. If he did notice, the brat didn't say one work of gratitude for it. So I spent all day Thursday making organized Chaos out of it. Teach him to ignore me. The only reaction I got from him was a "damn it, Thenardier" when he went for one of his law books and got a nursery rhyme book. Don't mess with me. I tried starting up a conversation with him, and I had dragged Azelma to the meeting on Wednesday with me; but Enjolras had booked it out of there after his closing statement. Poor Joly had to go out of his way to walk the both of us back to the flat. We made small talk, but when he brought up Enjolras's strange behavior, I shut down and gave the poor doctor my cold shoulder. Thinking about it, though, I suppose that was even more suspicious than acting like I hadn't noticed his blind leader's mannerisms lately.

Today was Friday and, as hard as it is to believe, I did nothing to the flat. Well, nothing more than I had already done. I sat quietly in the arm chair, reading a book I swiped from my humble host's bedroom bookshelf, while Azelma stirred some soup in the kitchen. Combeferre and Courfeyrac had went with her to the market up around the University, so she wouldn't have to venture down into the slums to get the food. She really wasn't much of a cook, but she knew more than I did, and without Grantaire, I'd take anyone's cooking.

"One moment." I called out as a horrible pounding sounded against the front door. I marked my spot in the book by folding the pre-folded page. Most of Enjolras's leisure books were similarly folded. His law, philosophy, and religion books, though, were crisp and pristine. As much as I loved messing with him, I didn't dare fold those pages. "Hold on!" I barked at the person insistently knocking.

The knocker had earned Azelma's attention from the kitchen. She had a frown on her face and a rag in her hands as I started unlocking the door. We were both nearly left speechless at the figure who showed up on the other side.

"Aiden!" I exclaimed, forgetting all past grudges, and flung myself at him. "Where've you been? How'd you find this place?" I pulled away and felt his face, neck, chest, shoulders...I couldn't believe he was all here!

Azelma had a grin on her face, but the glint in her eye foretold of the action her hand took. A good, firm smack across Aiden's cheek, where his mark was. I gasped, partially at the sudden action and partially from fear of what Montparnasse would do in retaliation.

"Please, forgive me." He cried, falling to his knees. Aiden grabbed my hand and Azelma's and pressed a desperate kiss to each of them.

"Get off of me!" Azelma snatched her hand back. "Do you know what'd happened because of you?" She hissed.

"'Zel, everything is fine now." I pleaded, helping Aiden to his feet.

"Everything is not fine!" Azelma barked. "Do you even know what you've put my family through? Papa thought Eponine ran away! She's got bruises and cuts on top of the ones you gave her! You nearly left her for dead, you bastard! And now some poor schoolboy is paying for a month of services when all we're doing is sleeping in his home and eating his food! Whatever hell you've been through, you deserve! Sick bastard." She spat at his feet.

"Azelma Thenardier!" I shoved her lightly.

"No, no," Aiden squeezed my shoulder. "She's right. I feel absolutely terrible for what I did, please believe me."

"Because you're so trustworthy." Azelma rolled her eyes.

"I've been building hopping." He told us. "I heard whispers around the streets that Eponine was here, and I just wanted to come and see if you were okay." I nodded my head and kissed the back of his hand. "I'm not here long nor to pester." He added to Azelma.

There was a moment of silence, horribly awkward silence. My eyes caught something near Aiden's back. "'Zelma, go get him some food, please." Azelma opened her mouth to protest, "Go, Azelma!" I wouldn't have any of it, though.

The second the kitchen door shut behind Azelma, Aiden started peeling his layers off. "I got it a couple of days ago when I was running away from some people I owe money to." He explained as he roughly loosened his cravat. "I paid some urchin off to get what she could out, but the other day it started bleeding and oozing again. It hurts like a devil." He hissed as he held up his shirt to show me the wound.

It smelt.

"My God, Aiden." I gagged, holding my hand over my mouth.

"You know I wouldn't ask if I didn't have to, but I need money, 'Ponine."

"And a change of clothes."

"I'm not joking."

"I know." I frowned. "Hold on."

I hurried off to Grantaire's room and grabbed whatever clothes I thought would fit Aiden. I found some ones that I didn't think I saw Grantaire wear too much. After, I went to Enjolras's room and stole some toiletry things that Aiden could take with him wherever he was going. I paused in front of one of his drawers. I knew he kept money in there. I ran my hands over the suitcase I had thrown all the things into. It wouldn't really hurt Enjolras if I took some of the money, right? Elle was bound to be home with more money from their parents, and Aiden really did need it more than Enjolras ever would. I bit my lip. Screw it, Aiden needed it. Quickly I pulled the money from the drawer and stuffed it into a worn down pouch that was also in the drawer. Aiden was leaning against the wall when I walked back in. Azelma, with a new change of attitude, was spoon feeding him, making soothing sounds as she did. She didn't say anything when she saw the money pouch in my hand, just looked away like she had learned to do as a Thenardier. I moved as fast as I could with Aiden, changing him into Grantaire's fresh clothing and wrapping his old clothes in some bed linen I took from a closet.

"You take a train out of town somewhere far away," I told him as I helped him into his coat. I handed him the suitcase. "I put some things in there to help you get by until you get where you're going. And this should be more than enough to get you there, medical attention, and settled for a few months." I pressed the pouch against his chest and then stuffed it in his inside coat pocket.

"I swear to God, Montparnasse, if you come around here again, I'll have papa on you so fast, you won't see the hand that slits your throat." Azelma warned.

"I promise. I swear. I give you and God and Satan my word, ladies." Aiden kissed our cheeks over and over again.

We froze at the soft knocking on the door. "Let me in." Followed Enjolras's dazed voice. He didn't care enough to be focused.

"Kitchen." I mouthed and waved Azelma and Aiden in that direction. Azelma let Aiden use her as support as the two of them swiftly moved towards the kitchen. I smoothed my outfit out and took a few deep breaths before leaning against the door frame. "I'm sorry, Monsieur, the master of the house isn't home, and I don't think he'd appreciate you'd being here when he's not."

"I don't find this amusing, Eponine."

"Good. It's a very serious matter." I opened the door just enough to catch a sliver of him.

"Thenardier."

"Oo, last name basis now? That's not the name you were moaning the other night." I smirked, opening the door just a little wider.

"I wasn't using my head."

"I assure you, it was all head." I sucked on this tip of my finger seductively.

There it was! Uncomfortability. Enjolras cleared his throat, "Please let me in."

"What are you going to do if I don't?"

Enjolras looked at me dumbly. I was being serious, though. I quickly slid out the door, locked the door, and shover the key down my bodice, grinning wickedly at Enjolras as he tried to grab for the key before it got tucked in.

"Thenardier..." Enjolras's voice was low and the daggers he was shooting me were enough to send normal girls running. Lucky for me, I was a Thenardier.

"Hush, boy." I gripped the front of his coat. "Now, tell me, what would have done if Azelma hadn't cried out on Monday night." I whispered, backing him into Elle's front door. I had one leg between his legs, and I could tell you it was all head.

"Nothing." He was lying, his body told the truth.

"You want you know what I would have done?" I took his arms and wrapped the around my waist. For all his talk, he was no action. Maybe if he had moved his arms, I would have believed him, but they stayed glued. I ran my hands up his chest, down his chest to the spot above his groin, and slowly back up again before settling around his neck. "That." I pulled his face closer to mine, which he complied with. "This." I gently sucked and nipped at a few spots on his jawline.

"Eponine." He grunted, ready to be done. Just shut up, man, and give me a few more minutes.

"Shh." I hushed him, my lips hovering over his.

"Eponine," he repeated, "what're you hiding?"

I sighed, rolled my eyes, and fetched the key, "I accidentally spilled Azelma's bath water all over your bed."

"You what?" He barked, snatching the key and fumbling to unlock the door. He bolted into the parlor the second the door clicked open. I stood in the hallway as Azelma and Aiden hurried out of the kitchen once the coast was clear.

"What did you tell him?" Azelma asked as I kissed Aiden good-bye and bid him well.

"I'll write you here when I make it somewhere." Aiden promised. I nodded, and Azelma waved her hands for him to get going as Enjolras's footsteps sounded down the hall.

"What's the matter?" I grinned as Enjolras reappeared, sulking and glaring between Azelma and me. "That's right, must have been in a dream. Silly me."

"Mademoiselle, do me a favor and set two more spots at the dinner table?" Enjolras bowed slightly to Azelma. "Marius and his friend will be joining us for dinner. They should be here anytime now."

.

Marius's friend was that little brat Enjolras invited to his birthday. I should have just stayed at the Inn. I would have rather dealt with my father than these damn "love birds". Enjolras grinned like a goon every time Marius and the brat cooed at each other. I didn't think he found it amusing, only my pain was keeping him entertained. Of course it would. I grimaced at the pair. How could they be so smitten with each other? They had only known each other for a week and a half. Now they were talking about what their future babies would look like and how lavishly they would live. I about gagged on my soup when they kissed near the end of dinner. I think Enjolras finally let his amusement die down when I was on the verge of tears. Why didn't he love me? Why did he not even talk to me? He knew it was me, right? The clothes and bath didn't throw him off? Well, if he loved me, neither of those should have really mattered. Right? I bit my lip and excused myself to get drinks. I needed one, really. Absinthe, preferably. I knew we had it. I almost gave it to Enjolras the other night instead of scotch.

I poured myself half of a mug of the drink and headed into Enjolras's room. I really adored his mirror. It was my favorite part of the flat. Mirrors were a luxury I had lost long ago. I took a sip of the drink and then a swig, cringing as I set it on the dresser next to the mirror. I was getting pretty, wasn't I? My hair was brown. Because it was my natural color, not because it was hidden under dirt and grime. It was soft now, touchable. My skin was getting closer and closer to Elle's pretty complexion. My weight was reaching a healthy one. I wasn't nearly as bony. My chest was filling, body gaining flesh. I was turning into something of a sight. Grantaire, in a detox stupor, had admitted something along those lines. So if Grantaire thought I was a beauty, why didn't Marius.

"Eponine?" I wiped away a stray tear as Enjolras stood in the doorway.

"What?" I snapped, picking up the mug and taking another swig. I knew it was killing him. Seeing the glass in his room.

"Do you want me to send them away?"

I laughed harshly before another swig. "It would ruin the point of their visit, wouldn't it? Or has it served it's purpose? Make Eponine see that Marius will never love someone like her? Make her see that she's nothing compared to the lavish life they desire? Make her cry?" I cried, choking the last part out. I turned back to the mirror and shook my head as Enjolras shut the door. "What is she? An urchin? Whore? Delilah." I traced my mark with my free hand.

"Does it matter what I answer? Really?" He asked.

I sent him a side glance.

"What are you drinking?"

"Water." I snorted, grinning at myself in the mirror. My head was starting to spin. I think I could actually taste blue. Like I felt. "No, I suppose it doesn't really matter what answer you give me. It's just going to be some scripted shit that you pull out of your books; well, your ass, really." I finished off the mug and handed it to Enjolras. "Or I'm sure you'll find some way to connect it to France. You invited them out of honor to your country. Your patria doesn't want you to be with me."

"Marius."

"Yes, yes, him, too." I waved my hand. I glanced at Enjolras. He was uncomfortable again. "Do I make you nervous?" I smirked as I backed him into the door. "You're always to tense."

"Eponine, you're drunk."

"And you're burning." I loosened his cravat. "Up." I finished, brushing my knee against his groin. His throat bobbed from holding back a groan. I took his hand and put it on my neck, his thumb above my pulse. "So am I."

Enjolras stoked my jawline with his thumb as I ran my hands up his chest, playing with the buttons on his shirt after his cravat had been fully removed. He was rather handsome, I guess. Azelma wasn't so out of it. He was no muscle man, that was for sure, but he was quite decent. There was just enough muscle on him to be attractive, but not too much to make me want to have him pin me against the wall. I grinned at the thought. I pressed myself close to Enjolras when his hands left my face, traveled down my neck, grazed the side of my chest, and settled on my hips. Was he submitting? He hadn't pulled away yet or pushed me away, so I took it as a sign to keep going with what I was doing or was planning on doing.

"Do you think I'm pretty." I muttered, kissing his jaw just beneath his ear lobe.

"Beautiful." I thought I heard him say. I was too busy making another kind of mark on his neck.

After a bit, I left his neck and dragged my nails down his chest, earning a groan that he had bit back earlier. Enjolras allowed me to untuck and discard his shirt as I kissed his neck, jawline, chin, and the corners of his mouth. Playfully, I nipped at his bottom lip. Not a kiss. A nip. Teeth. Not tongue. He went in for a kiss, though; but I turned my cheek, and he caught my jaw.

"I didn't say so." I whispered into his ear, nibbling on his ear lobe. "We're playing my game now." I gave him a soft, quick kiss. "Like this."

Enjolras took my lips before I could move onto my next torment. I'll admit, I was thrown off guard. I told him no, basically. But he went ahead anyway. I played along, though. Why fight a good thing? I wrapped my arms around Enjolras's neck and melted into him. He was a very good kisser for being a prude. The way his mouth moved, his tongue, his hands...I could have died right then and there and would have been content in whatever afterlife God granted to me. I moaned into his mouth as I felt my dress slip to the ground. Good. That damn thing was so constricting. Enjolras backed us into the bed, but that's where his leadership ended. He aided his own downfall when he helped me roll us over. Once on top, I straddled him, breaking away from the hot, hot kiss and grinning down at my prisoner.

"Hello." I smiled, kissing him deeply. I ground my hips against his, "You're mine now." I nipped his lip again and pinned his hands on either side of him. "I own you." I breathed in his ear. Enjolras ran his hands up and down my side as I left them to work on unbuttoning his trousers. I tickled my fingers down his chest, from his neck down, just above the area that was begging to be touched. "Say you want me." I said after another slow kiss.

"I want you." He said throatily.

Another similar but longer kiss, "Say you need me."

"I need you."

I nodded and situated myself so I was lying on top of him. Kissing him. Feeling his heart, his skin, his touch, his taste. I ran my fingers through his hair, letting them linger there as Enjolras's own hands explored my body. I think I was getting drunker, lying there, because the longer I was there, the more I enjoyed it. I could have stayed there forever and just kissed him until I was dead from lack of oxygen. It was intoxicating, really. More so than my dream had lead me to believe. How often was the real thing better than the dream version? The time we had lost in his bed was beyond me. Surely our absence was noticed, but at the moment, I wasn't sure who was at home to notice. Enjolras, though, wasn't going to let this heaven go on. As much as I thought I was the one who was in charge, he surprised me yet again and took his initiative back.

"Alright," He said after tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear and tapping my ass. "I have to walk the love of your life home." Enjolras moved my leg to the side and stood out of the bed.

"What? Who?" I splurted out.

"Your Marius, of course." Enjolras answered mockingly as he fixed his clothing. The bulge in his pants and the heavy swelling of his lips were the only things that gave our actions away. Other than that, he looked very well put together. "He lives all the way across town."

"So?"

"So...if he's dead in the morning, your beauty will never hit him."

"Oh." I blushed, picking my dress off the floor. "I suppose." Was he really thinking of Marius the entire time? Of Marius and me? Honestly, it was a bit disheartening. I mean, I had only thought of him the entire time. "Enjolras-"

"Yes?"

I opened my mouth to say something but words failed me. Well, not truly. I hadn't planned on telling him anything. Maybe ask him to stay longer, but I didn't know how to ask. Or what possessed me to want him to stay.

"Next time," I said quietly, leaning up to his ear and taking his pinky finger with mine. "Bite me and I'll purr." I added with a sultry purr in his ear. His finger tightened around mine, but I easily pulled free. "See you."

Teach him to mess with me like that.

**You like?**

**Grantaire will be back next chapter! Elle won't, but she'll come home eventually.**

**So, I'd really like to hear your thoughts on this chapter, Samantha as Eponine (!), and everything between.**

**Thank you for all the support! Please review to keep it coming!**

**All my love:)**


	8. Madame Tulan

**Happy International Kissing Day! (I was so ready to send this out yesterday, and then guess what happened...went to save the last part and FF said I had to sign in. Does anyone else hate when that happens? Seriously bugs the crap out of me. grrrr)**

**Yeah, so this chapter jumps around a bit. Well, a lot. It starts off in mid-January and then ends in mid-February. It also jumps from POVs. I'll make it clear who is speaking, but just so you know, it'll start off as Eponine talking, then Enjolras (a very short section), and then Eponine again.**

**Disclaimer: Any day now I'll own Phantom 25th!**

"Enjolras?" I opened his door up a little. I knew he was up from the candle light casting a glow into the hallway. After hearing the ruffling of papers, I opened the door fully to find him standing at the foot of his bed. The bed was covered in all sorts of books and papers, clothes and linens, soaps and lotions. For a moment I was afraid he was leaving me. And everyone else. "What's wrong?" I added nervously.

"Oh," He cleared his throat. "Nothing, I'm just reorganizing before Grantaire gets back. He'll talk my ear off, and I'll get nothing done tomorrow. I suggest you get some rest, too. Cherish the silence." I caught myself grinning along with Enjolras at the thought of Grantaire rambling on about something.

"I can help you."

"No!" He half shouted. I stopped in mid-step. "Sorry, I just mean that I've seen your organizing, and I'd much rather do this on my own."

I laughed, "You have to know I don't actually consider that organizing." I smiled and started putting his books back on the shelf in alphabetical order by subject and author. "I only do that to get your attention." I admitted. I smiled at one of the romance novels I quoted during dinner once.

"My attention?"

"Well, of course." I said as Enjolras brought a stack of books over. "It doesn't really work, though, does it?"

"It's mostly irritating."

"Good." My smile widened. At least I knee I could get any kind of rise from him.

We spent a good half an hour organizing the books on the shelves, making sure they were all in correct placement. None of them were allowed to be too close to the edge, but they also weren't allowed to be pushed too far back. He had all these rules that just a simple book had to follow. God only knows how he managed to get a group full of simple-minded university boys to heel to his every command. I suppose that was all in the beauty and mystery that is Enjolras. Azelma and I think he might have been a King or something in a past life. He was such a charismatic person. If you look at him, you feel the need to listen to him. If you listen to him, you feel the need to believe in what he's saying. And once you're there, Enjolras has you under his spell. He probably could have been a general in an army, too. You'd probably have to have a whole hell of a lot of charisma to convince people to die for something they really not need die for. Really. What is so important that you'd lead hundreds of innocent men to their death? I glanced at Enjolras. The Revolutionary. Yes, he probably was a general.

What would I have been? A peasant still? A lady? I felt like I would have still been stealing bread from bins, pies from windows, and things like that. I can't even imagine living life any other way. But, I am, though. Right? I'm as close to living like a lady now than I ever have been. I sent Enjolras another glance as he put things in drawers. Would I have known him in a past life? Would he have given a second glance to a poor girl on the street?

"What are you thinking about?" Enjolras's question caught me off guard. Was I staring at him? I hope he didn't think anything of it.

"Is it because of a girl?" I asked.

"What?" He hissed, his attitude suddenly changing.

I dropped a hair pin on the floor, and Enjolras, as expected, rushed to pick it up. "Is it because of a girl?" I repeated.

Enjolras turned the pin over and over in his fingers before setting it down on the dresser. I watched him pace about the room a bit, removing things from his bed and setting them somewhere else as he did. I knew he wasn't avoiding my question, contemplation was written all over his face. I really wasn't expecting a full blown confession from him, but a simple 'yes' or 'no' would ease my curious mind until later. There had to have been a girl. He wouldn't be this quiet if there wasn't. He would be such a good kisser if there wasn't. I've never met a prude who's as good of a tease and kisser as Enjolras is. I guess all I wanted was for him to say that there was or had been a girl. His lady!

I had nearly forgotten about her. Maybe he's been pinning after her for a while. What did Grantaire say? Well, maybe that year he had no classes on Tuesdays, he met this lady and started this clean fanatic rage. Oh, that had to be it. I frowned at the thought of his lady. Did it make me a horrible person for not thinking of her? I did promise him I'd help him win her affections, and here I was trying to win his affections so that I could get into his money. I took a step towards the door. It probably did make me horrible. Here I was complaining that other girls were standing in the way of Marius being with me, and I was standing in the way of Enjolras truly and entirely pursuing this lady he admired. But the money...I needed that money so much. More than words can express. It's not just about breaking away from our parents. It was a whole new type of freedom that being independent couldn't even begin to compare to. I pushed down my worries and trouble and gathered my will back from the ground. I put a hand on Enjolras's arm to stop him from wearing down his poor floor boards.

"I'm sorry." I said softly. "I shouldn't have asked." I added, kissing his knuckles.

"A story for another time." He mutter dejectedly as he stared down at me.

I nodded and peeled my night clothes off until I was standing in from of him with only my camisole on. Enjolras followed suit but left his pants on. I'll admit I was glad for that one. As much as most of my body ached for him, I don't think I had the nerve just yet. Pretty ironic, huh? A prostitute not ready for another bed. I crawled into his bed and under the covers, waiting for him to join me. The whole idea of what we were doing sounded so awkward to me. We weren't talking, just getting into bed with one another. We weren't even kissing or touching. Just getting into bed. Well, I mean, there would be kissing and there would be touching, but the steps leading up to it. It was like watching Aiden try and be with a girl. He wouldn't know the first thing to do.

"What are we doing?" Enjolras whispered as we laid in his bed, close enough for me to feel how excited the anticipation was making him.

"Something new." I answered, stealing a timid kiss.

Enjolras closed the space between us, and soon we were picking up where he left off during dinner. There was no one to walk home, Azelma was dead asleep, so it was just me and Enjolras and the night. Enjolras muttered something about what we were doing, and it caused my to smile against his lips. Even though I wasn't looking for anything overly sexual tonight, my body betrayed me by involuntarily rolling my hips against Enjolras's. It was his undoing. Enjolras rolled us over and deepened our kisses, heated up the touches, and made it impossible for me to think clearly. I dragged my nails down his back, squeezed his ass, and dug into his shoulders as he nipped and sucked at my collarbone. Every little touch was passionate. Every little moan was intoxicating. Every little movement had me falling deeper and deeper into this erotic descent into pleasure. Was I having the same effect on him as he was having on me? I rolled us back over and returned his favor. I kissed my way down his chest to the start of his pants then back up, rubbing my leg against his bulge as I did.

On my back again. His hand dipped under my camisole as his tongue entered my mouth. This was pure agony. Sweet, sweet agony. I needed to stop it, though, because if we kept going, I couldn't promise myself that I wouldn't stop him from doing anything he wanted to me. Just a few more moments. I could let his hand get higher, or lower, and then stop him. He may have been on top, but I was still in charge. His hand roamed up, and just before it could reach it's destination, I grabbed his wrist and broke the kiss. Damn, Thenardier.

"Wait." I panted. Enjolras took back his hand, and I tried willing my voice to stay firm. "Not tonight, not like this."

"Like what?" He asked before flopping down next to me.

I turned over on my side and held myself up with my elbow, "Like in the middle of the night when you could fall asleep on me at any time."

Enjolras let out a short laugh, "I wouldn't fall asleep." He sent me a glance. "I'm full of stamina." He added, looking at the ceiling with a smirk.

I rubbed my leg over his crotch and grinned at the reaction. Enjolras turned on his side with his back facing me. I rolled my eyes. I scooted across the bed to him and wrapped my arm around his mid. I kissed his shoulder blade and nipped at the crook of his neck. Enjolras took my hand and kissed it's palm before placing it back where it had been.

"Tell me about something." I said against the back of his neck.

"What?"

"Anything." I kissed his shoulder.

"I ran away from home when I was sixteen." Enjolras stroked my hand with his thumb. I stopped kissing his back. "I haven't seen my parents in nearly seven years. I don't even think my father considers me his son anymore."

Guilt washed over my body like a tidal wave. "Why?"

"Would you believe it was because I couldn't handle my father's rebel ways?" I could hear the smile in his voice. I told him I couldn't. "I use to think that France's politics were a gift from God. Our government could do no wrong, we were at the top because of them."

"What changed your mind?" I asked, frowning at his back.

"Paris." He shook his head. "I stayed with some family in the slums for about a month before I met Grantaire in the library." Grantaire in a library? "Mind you, this was before he took residence at the bars. He let me stay with his family around the University. We talked a lot, and he sort of helped me form into the man I am today. Elle moved to the city when I was twenty, we've been sharing an account ever since."

"Does your father know about you now?" I pushed him down on his back, so I could get a good look at him. I was intrigued. "Doesn't he hear word or whisper of things you're trying to accomplish?"

"I don't even know what I'm trying to accomplish."

"A rebellion." I replied quickly.

Enjolras squeezed my arm, "You've already made it clear that people from the slums will not listen to me."

"Well, yeah, with your approach." I laid on top of him. "People don't like being talked at, they like being talked _to._ You can't just walk into a neighborhood and tell them that they're being ruled the wrong way and this is the way they should be ruled. Their people just like you, they like choices and explanations. They'll confide in someone they trust and trust in someone they know. You can't let your ignorance of a certain class keep you from trying to converse with them. There's an old woman two blocks from the Inn, she's the most educated woman I know. She knows Freud, Jung, Moses, and Locke. Another three blocks and you'll find a man who use to work for the crown before they let him go with nothing to his name. You spend a week down there and you'll find more people to fight for than you'll find in your books."

"I have no time to talk to the slum residents."

I shoved his shoulder. "You have time to make fictional attacks plans, preach to a bunch of boys who will follow you no matter what, and play cat-mouse with me; but you have no time to get to know my people?"

"My plans aren't fictional, boys need to be reminded, and you are a handful." Enjolras paused. "Did you hear that?"

"Yes, it was my intelligence dropping at the stupidity of your justifications." I snapped. "Your plans are fiction until you gain the support of the people you're supposed to be fighting for; if you jumped off a cliff in the name of France, your schoolboys would follow; and I can keep my fantasies to myself." I purred the last part into his ear.

"No, I really heard something." Enjolras got me out of the bed with him. We took a candle after getting dressed in our night clothes and went into the living room. It was still, everything in the same place it had been before we went into our own rooms at the beginning of the night. I used his candle to light one of my own. He check the kitchen, and I peered into the dining room. Everything was clear. "I could have sworn-"

There it was. The same cry that ruining our evening on Monday. This time it was much louder and much more shrill. I really thought my heart stopped beating from the shock of it all. Azelma's shrieks were followed by some lower pitched shouts and exclamations. Grantaire. Of course. Enjolras lead me down the hallway to Grantaire's bedroom. And there was the drunk with his shirt off, trying desperately to get it on as Azelma threw things that had cluttered the floor at him.

_15 January 1831_

Azelma glared at Grantaire as they both poked at their lunch. Grantaire had thought it was me who he had stumbled in bed with. He said he was so drunk that he would have groped just about anyone. Needless to say, Azelma wasn't happy about the idea of him wanting to feel me up either. She was so upset that she didn't even bother to ask where I had been while all this was happening. Her mind was too livid to process anything other than her anger. They were both rather amusing to watch. Grantaire, who was well aware of the looks the girl was giving him, sat there and moved his soup around bowl, scooping it up and then dripping it back in the bowl. And as fun as it was to watch the two, most of me wished Enjolras was here. He was all that I could think about since last night. Between my guilt and my desire, I was aching for him.

"Where'd Enjolras go?" Grantaire finally said after all of our bowls were cold.

"The library." I said certainly. Then added, "I think." to make it sound like I wasn't sure. Although, I knew for a fact he went to the library to get his work done. There were too many distractions here for him. It was probably just me, though.

"Maybe you should join him." Azelma told Grantaire.

The drunk stared at her with his mouth open for a second before responding, "I'd much rather stay here and bother you." He grinned mockingly.

"Grantaire." I pleaded. "Can you two manage to be by yourselves for two hours tops? I need to take care of some things."

"You're leaving me alone with him?" Azelma barked. "What if he tried touching me again?"

"Oh, get over yourself, darling." Grantaire rolled his eyes. "The only reason you nearly got a taste of the Great R is because I thought you were your sister." Grantaire took a swig from his cup.

"Do you see what I'm talking about?" Azelma waved her hand at Grantaire.

After leaving the bickering children to clean up lunch, I slipped into my rags and hurried from the flat before either of them could cut me off. I took the familiar path to the Inn, stopping and talking to random vendors who I passed on the way. I gave some of them change I was carrying around with me and others advice on where they could find clients looking for their merchandise. Sometimes I thought that being a vendor was probably worse than being a prostitute. Vendors would be away from their families for days on end, their goods were stolen all the time, and most days no one was buying what they were selling. At least with prostitutes, there was always business in a city like Paris. My father usually let merchants stay at the Inn for a discount price. He knew you couldn't beat change out of an empty pocket. He never took things from them for a half price either. He saw no point of only giving them the money they'd eventually pay him to stay at the Inn.

Madame Tulan lived in this tiny hole in the wall type of garret. It was a ground floor space since she could barely walk without tripping over her own two feet. Most of the time it smelt like a dead animal. But today the odor that was coming from it reminded me of Enjolras after he bathed. I felt a little less anxious about walking in. The old woman was sitting in her chair when I walked into the small living space. It was neat and organized, her blanket had been folded, her hair pinned, the sleep and crust build-up from her eyes had been cleaned. All of this told me that Gavroche had been around to see her recently. He took good care of her, and she gave him money for food in return.

"Who is that?" The old blind woman hissed.

"It's me, Madame." I said softly.

"Thenardier?"

"Eponine." I nodded although I knew she couldn't see me.

"I heard some bourgeois bought you for the month."

"He's a boy at the University up there."

"What are you here for?"

"He's a revolutionary." That's all I needed to say to get the old woman to groan in annoyance. She never liked dealing with anything outside of her garret or her books. Thinking on it, it's strange how similar she and Enjolras were.

"Let the bourgeois think they need to meddle in our affairs; we're better than to try and meddle in theirs, girl."

"Please." I whispered, grabbing her hands. She ran her thumb over my knuckles then flipped my hands over to feel my fingers, palm, and then pulse. "He's dear to me, and I know in a few months time he's going to enact whatever scheme he has going on in that mind of his. I want to change his mind. He's going to be coming to see you soon, but I need something more substantial than an old woman's word." I hoped she understood what I was saying.

"When'll he be coming?"

"When I bring him."

Tulan rubbed my hands between hers and then patted them. "By the window nearest the door." She nodded in the direction of the door. "Might as well grab a handful. Come see me at the end of the month, girl." Madame Tulan said as a finality.

.**Enjolras's POV. Enjolras's POV. Enjolras's POV. Enjolras's POV.**

_18 January 1831_

Eponine sat at the window, staring down at the streets of Paris below her. Not that she could actually see the streets of Paris through the sheet of white outside. It had been snowing all weekend since the end of the day on Thursday. Elle was supposed to come in on Saturday night, but no trains were leaving London, which was where she said she'd be coming from. I took my eyes off of Eponine and went back to reading. I'll admit, part of my wished that Elle would stay gone a bit longer. The second she got back, she and Eponine would pick up right where they left off in teaching Eponine how to attract Pontmercy's attention. She would just get more and more beautiful. And for what? So Pontmercy could tell her that she'd never be more than a friend to him? I didn't understand how someone so quick to pick up everything else couldn't see what was right in front of her. She'd been pining after him for God knows how long, and he had yet to share a hint of affection. Eponine was wishful, but I was starting to think the line between wishful and dreamer was thin.

I watched her shift positions so that her head was leaning against the window. She'd been acting strange for the past few days or so. The flat hadn't been rearranged once, several times I caught her popping some leaves in her mouth, and Grantaire said she'd been sneaking out randomly. Don't get me wrong, she wasn't always in a depressive type of mood. If Grantaire and Azelma were out of the room, she wanted to play. Twice I've come home from running errands to find her naked in my bed. And once she offered to share a bath with me. A few times at dinner or when we'd be sitting in the parlor afterwards she would pick up her double meaning conversations like she always did when Grantaire was around. It amazed me how both of them were talking about two different things, but their conversations made perfect sense. Then there were the late nights when she would sneak in my bedroom after her sister and Grantaire had fallen asleep. But other than those times, whenever I saw her, she was usually reading one of my more lamentable books or just moping around.

The effect she was having on me was strange. She was the biggest distraction I've ever had. I should have been studying for my classes and making plans for the rebellion with Courfeyrac; instead, my one-month-ahead plan was lagging, and all my papers designated to the rebellions were sitting in the bottom drawer of my desk. The worst part was that I was well aware of the fact that she was a distraction, and yet I let her keep doing all the things that put my attention in her hands. She was my greatest weakness. I ached for her in places that hadn't ached in a while. Most of the ABC would tell you that they would go to Hell and back for Eponine, but I can assure you that I'm the only one who actually would. I would do anything for her. Almost anything.

"Enjolras..." Eponine started just as I was getting back to my book. I looked back up at her. She was up from her spot at the window and smoothing her dress out like she always did when she was nervous. "Will you help me draw a bath?"

"It's only Monday." I knew she bathed on Wednesdays and Saturdays.

"I'm mixing things up." She smirked, heading out of the room.

"Marius and that girl haven't talked for a few days. He doesn't mention her at all." I told Eponine after we had the tub full of hot water.

"Yeah?" I tried reading her response, but it was neutral.

She was remarkable. I helped her gather the things Elle told her that she needs for a proper bath. I'm not like the other guys who have only started becoming attracted to Eponine intellectually, romantically, and sexually because of her change in living. Joly has to prepare himself before he can check out her wounds, because he's so afraid of getting an erection while she undresses. Courfeyrac's been sitting near the back during the meetings just so he can sit with her when she arrives late, as always. Feuilly tries fruitlessly to start up a conversation with or about her, and all he gets is a laugh, because we're all trying to pretend like nothing has changed. She's still the same Eponine who's been with us from the first time she stumbled through the doors looking for Pontmercy. I handed her the brush that was in my top drawer. It wasn't anything new to me, though. She'd always been this mysteriously beautiful girl. Intriguing, really. How many urchins could you find who read and understood philosophy, law, and religion? Lotions, brushes, and baths only heightened Eponine's beauty. Even Grantaire knew it.

Eponine moved her hair over her shoulder for me to undo the buttons and ties or her dress. I kissed the crook of her neck as I slowly undid her dress. I'm not the prude she claims me to be. I mean, I'm certainly not like Grantaire who has had more girls than he can count on two hands, but I haven't been in the dark completely. I've loved, lost, and moved on. Now I have my books and studies to keep me company. I left kisses from the crook of her neck to her shoulder.

"Enjolras." Eponine moaned, turning around to face me. She put her hand on my face and traced my lips with her thumb. "We shouldn't do this."

"Sh." I hushed her.

"We can't." She said but kissed me anyway.

"Let me make love to you." I whispered as she nipped at my bottom lip. It was her favorite thing to do. Nipping.

Eponine grinned as I pecked her lips lightly, "You don't love me."

"I'm starting to." I said before she took control.

She back us into the bed, peeling my clothes off and discarding them in random directions. By the time we got to the bed, I was in nothing but my pants and she in nothing but Elle's camisole. And here we were. In a spot we had been in plenty of times before, but I knew this time was different. I could feel it, and I hoped Eponine didn't have any please to tease crap planned. I wanted -no, needed- her too much to play around tonight. I made to flip us over so I was on top, but Eponine grabbed my wrists and held them on either side of my head. A wicked smirk graced her face, and she licked her lips. She ground her hips into mine as she brought her lips close my my ear. Her breath on my skin gave my body goose bumps up and down.

"No." She breathed simply. "I'm in charge."

**Eponine's POV. Eponine's POV. Eponine's POV. Eponine's POV.**

_7 February 1831_

I pressed my face against the cool ground as I waited for another wave of vomit to wash over me. It had been about a month since I'd seen Madame Tulan, and I was not aware that the symptoms would take this long to show up. If I had known I would have found another way to keep Enjolras's attentions. I grinned to myself before a round of nausea hit me again. The sex was certainly keeping him up all night. It was great sex. Definitely. I hurled into the bucket as Azelma held my hair back and rubbed my back soothingly. Last week's nausea was enough to keep me from staying in his room all night, but we still got our fill in. It was quite exciting, having to hide it from the rest of the house. Like a game. Not that they paid much attention to us anyway. Grantaire and Azelma (gross) were too busy flirting with each other, and Elle was occupying her time with keeping a keen eye on the pair. That's how I was sure that there had been something going on with Elle and Grantaire. Jealousy is a loud-mouthed bitch.

I hurled into the bucket again.

"Maybe it was those eggs Grantaire made this morning." Azelma suggested as she tied my hair back with the ribbon that had been wrapped around her wrist. "I thought they tasted funny; and, don't tell anyone, they made me a little gassy while Elle was doing my hair." She added with a snicker.

"What's wrong?" Enjolras's voice asked somewhere behind me as I bent over the bucket again.

"I think Grantaire's eggs got her sick." Azelma told him. "She was just telling me how queasy she was, and then..." Her voice trailed off as she must have pointed in the direction where my first vomit landed.

"Do you need me to do anything?" He cleared his throat. Yes, be careful, someone might mistake your tone for worrisome. I rolled my eyes.

"Can you buy some chamomile, so I can make some tea with it? Mama use to make it to calm our nerves and stomach." Azelma turned back to me once he left. She handed me a glass of water to rinse my mouth out with and felt my face. "You're a little warm. I'll have Enjolras go get some kind of mint leaves, too." Azelma patted my arm and hurried out to catch Enjolras before he left.

"My eggs were perfect." Grantaire leaned in the doorway not a second after Azelma bolted from the room, "So Marius is out of the picture then?"

"What are you talking about?" I hissed. Stupid drunk and his nonsense ramblings.

"I'm not blind, Thenardier." He laughed. "Well, I guess in this case deaf." He added then purred and moaned loudly in mock. I blushed before my stomach decided to spill it's contents again. Grantaire groaned as he plopped down on the ground next to me, redoing the tie that Azelma had made. "I don't know what you two are up to aside from the obvious, but don't hurt him, Eponine. He's a good man, and he's found the best. I will make sure you never leave the slums if you hurt him." He said it so sweetly that the threat was even more menacing.

I nodded in understanding, but my stomach tossed and turned even more-so than before.

**So...? I'm not a big fan of writing about characters first times. I don't know why, I'm just not. But I promise, there will be more Eponine/Ejolras stuff;)  
>What did you guys think about the visit to Tulan's? Fair warning: There was a BIG misconception.<strong>

**Anyway, I'm hoping to get the next chapter up by the end of the week! In the time until...please review!:) **


	9. Dinner Theatre

**You people rock! Your support is FANTASTIC! **

**Sorry it's taken forever!:( College is CRAZY now. Two months from now things will get back into a normal update since summer is in two:)**

**Anyway, I hope you like this chapter!:)**

**Disclaimer: I own a certain DVD in which Ramin, Sierra, and Hadley are the stars! :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D :D **

_22 February 1831_

"Did you do anything fun today?" I asked Grantaire as we sat at the dining room table.

Azelma and Enjolras swirled their soup, completely uninterested in mine and Grantaire's sporadic dinner conversations. They always ignored us. I mean, sure, most of the time what we said made no sense to anyone but ourselves and other times, our conversations had nothing to do with what the other was talking about but they meshed. I didn't really mind that no one paid us attention. It's just an observation. I had thought that at least Elle would listen to us. Azelma and I had come to realize that anything Grantaire-related had her undivided attention. But I guess that's only when Azelma was interacting with the drunk personally. I'm of no threat apparently. Well, I know it's true. I would much rather keep on being with Enjolras than think about Grantaire. But still, a little attention wouldn't kill. Anyway, no one looked at us, so I nodded subtly to the drunk.

"My class at the university was cancelled, so I went and walked around the park for a while."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. It was refreshing. I met the sweetest lady." Grantaire grinned down at his soup and the others snapped into attention. I had to take a sip of wine to hide my goofy grin. "A very sweet lady." He added suggestively.

"While you were sober?" Enjolras asked almost incredulously.

"God, I hope so."

"What happened?" I egged the drunk on.

Grantaire smiled. "I was just walking, like I said, and there she was on a park bench crying. It was heartbreaking, really. I walked past her the first time, and when she was still there the second time, I sat down next to her. If you don't mind, for political and personal reasons, I'd rather not give away her identity."

"Political?" "Personal?" Enjolras and Elle barked similtaneously as Enjolras jumped to his feet, his chair falling behind him. Well, damn, I didn't know what to watch: how long Enjolras would let that chair stay there or the original excitement.

"Hush now, both of you." I waved at the siblings. "You had no interest before a moment ago. Keep going, Grantaire, _I'm _interested in your day."

"Yes, as I was saying, I sat down next to her and asked if she was well and offered her a shoulder to cry on. I said that my shoulders were not nearly as broad and strong as Atlas's, but they were strong enough to shoulder her burden." I stole a look in Enjolras's direction to see if he had caught on yet. Nope. "So we walked around the park and to that little gazebo at the edge of the lake. She was shaking from the cold, so I helped her into my jacket. Her hair..." Grantaire's voice trailed off and a dreamy look spread across his face. Elle and Azelma were practically green with jealousy. "It was soft, so soft. And it smelt like lavender." He inhaled as if her scent was still lingering.

"Keep on." I urged.

"She's having problems with her husband, see. He's a very powerful man, and we all know the horror stories that comes with marrying into power. He barely talks to her, and he's always bringing home whores after he goes out drinking. And the nights he isn't out drinking, he's romancing her staff. She woke up this morning to find him in bed with her best friend. The horror, right?"

Enjolras's face was set in concentration. I think the wheels were starting to turn in his head.

"So we were sitting there and I was doing my best to tell her how much she was worth. Honestly, my friends, she was the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on. Her hair's black as night and all the mysteries it holds and secrets it longs to whisper. Her skin as smooth and pale as a fine silk gown. And the way her hand felt in mine. It was like God had specifically made her hand to rest in mine. In that moment, I knew God made her for me." Grantaire felt up and down his rib cage. "He made her from one of my ribs just as he did Eve for Adam. I cupped her face ever gently and captured her lips with mine. She was surprised at first, but I wrapped my arms around her, like a blanket of sexual and emotional comfort."

Enjolras stared hard at Grantaire, his face contorted as he searched his mind's archives of all the shorts he's written, as he picked his chair up and sat back in it.

"I backed her into one of the posts, my fingers fumbling with all her ties and buttons. I knew she could feel how much I wanted her as I pressed myself close to her, my erect member throbbing with desire." Grantaire smirked down at his crotch. "When I nipped at her neck, she moaned the name I gave her '_Grantaire'. _Her right hand trailed down my chest and squeezed my manhood, and I cried-"

"Damn it, Eponine!"

"No, not quite." Grantaire snickered at Enjolras's outburst.

"I told you to stay out of my stuff."

"You told me to try." I corrected him.

"You all are ridiculous." Elle rolled her eyes and went back to sipping her wine.

"Will someone please explain what just happened?" Azelma looked around at us all.

"It's an example of your sister's inability to keep her hands off of things that don't belong to her." Enjolras glared at me.

I stood up and returned Enjolras's glare, "Oh, forgive me." I bowed mockingly at Enjolras. "From this moment on, I assure you that my hands will not touch anything that doesn't belong to me." I crossed my arms and sat down again, holding Enjolras's stare.

"I still..."

"Enjolras jots down fantasies he has. Sexual ones." Elle told Azelma.

"Eleanor!"

"Don't call me that!" Elle threw a roll at her brother. "And get over yourself, brother. All prudes have their own way of relieving their sexual tension, and yours just happens to be writing far-fetched fantasies."

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, Enjolras." I added. "You're not having sex, so no one's judging you." I smirked as his face fell at my implication. Grantaire raised an eyebrow at me, I shrugged.

"Well, I rather like these dinner acts you two put together, but give me a heads up next time." Elle grinned. "Watching Enjolras squirm is fun."

"I'm burning the stories."

"I'll find something." I assured Enjolras.

.

_23 February 1831_

"We can jam that up there and stuff this here."

"Isn't that a little risky?"

"No, she can take it. We really can't afford to be modest when it comes to things like this."

"That's too big to put in there, though. We could put this in the smaller cranny, and I think it would gain more stability that way."

"If we stuff her too much, she'll burst."

"I've got some wood that'll fit there."

"You've got wood."

"Oh, yeah, lots of it. I can show it to you if you want. You can size it up or something."

"That would be fantastic!" Joly said before Grantaire ruined what could have went on forever.

Grantaire let out a giggle that we had both been holding in as we listened to Joly, Courfeyrac, and Marius talk about Enjolras's sketches of various barricades. Courfeyrac turned to us with a silly smile on his face, nodding in understanding of Grantaire's sudden outburst. I grinned and took a sip of the tea in front of me. They had been there for about an hour, comparing and contrasting different structures and theories. Enjolras left them about fifteen minutes ago when he heard Elle's front door slam shut. Poor Joly blushed furiously when Courfeyrac explained the double meaning to him. For a guy who had a new lady every week, Joly sure was a timid thing. He was twitchy and shy, and I really wondered how a guy like him ended up with the ladies he did. Attraction's a curious thing, I guess. My stomach jittered when my mind slipped to Enjolras. I felt like I was cheating on Marius every time I thought of Enjolras...

"You spent how much?" The five of us stopped what we were doing at the sound of Elle's high-pitched shriek. She'd been in such a horrible mood lately, and I think she had reached her breaking point.

"Drop it."

What if she did something to prevent Enjolras from dipping into their funds? What would I do then? I didn't have nearly enough money to keep father satisfied. I'd have to find another way.

"No! That money cannot just be thrown about at leisure, Enjolras!"

"Don't you think I know that? I wouldn't have used it if I didn't have just cause, Elle. Now, please drop it."

"Like hell! I will not stand by while you use our money to fund your damn revolution! You might as well be funding your own funeral, because the only thing that is going to happen is the government parading around Paris with your head on a stake! Whatever ammunition you bought, whatever books you purchased, and whatever else you did, I want every cent back by tomorrow morning. Do you hear me?"

"Enjolras hasn't bought anything for the revolution recently." Courfeyrac muttered to the rest of us. Marius nodded in agreement, and Grantaire sent me a look.

"The money is staying where it's invested." Enjolras said.

"Enjolras! Just tell me what you did with it! Tell me you weren't foolish. Tell me it wasn't for the revolution. Tell me it can be taken back."

"I wasn't foolish; it wasn't for the revolution; but I will not take it back."

"If he isn't using money for the revolution, what's he using it for? We need new rifles and money for that project Lamarque gave us." Marius whispered. I didn't know if my heart would sink or soar.

"Enjolras!" Elle cried.

"Drop it!" Enjolras barked and Elle's door slammed shut a moment before Enjolras burst in.

"How goes it, my friend?" Grantaire asked with a smirk.

Enjolras sent Grantaire his best moody, angtsy-teenager glare befoe storming down the hall to his room. I contemplated getting up and going after him, but that would have been blatantly obvious that something was between us. And while these goofs were around, we were just two people living down the hall together temporarily. I frowned down the hall. We were just that, though, right? Right. I glanced at Marius. He and I were meant to be together. I was sure of it. Well, least sure of it than I had ever been. But there was certainty in there. I just...I didn't understand what I was feeling for Enjolras. I cared for him. But it was a changing kind of caring, blooming. When would it stop, though? When would he let me fall down to Earth and realize I couldn't have the heavens? With Marius, I knew what I felt was constant. Constant enough. Nothing about our relationship had changed since the day I met him. I sat still. I would go and check on Enjolras in fifteen or twenty minutes after the schoolboys got wrapped up in their work again. It was probably for the best anyway. Who wanted to deal with Enjolras when he was pissed off? Definitely not me.

"Is he going to come out of there before tonight?" Courfeyrac asked Grantaire.

"Oh, you know he will. Not even Elle and her God-like wrath can keep him in there all night. Dust will settle before then. Or Eponine will vomit." Grantaire snickered at a mental thought. "Hey, 'Ponine, vomit by the fire!"

"I don't vomit on command, you bastard." I snapped.

"You've been vomitting?" Joly abandoned the sketches. "Often?"

"Daily."

"Grantaire!" I barked. The drunk shrugged. "It's just a stomach flu, Joly. Honestly, I'm fine."

"She's been eating some leaves when she thinks no one's looking. They've probably been fueling her sickness." He added dejectedly.

I gave him a pained look. Was he trying to get me caught? Joly was well-educated in all things medical, and he was bound to know that these leaves were slowly poisoning my system. He would call me out on it and rat on me to Enjolras. Then where would I be? Back at the Inn. I touched my mark self conciously. If I came back empty handed, I would have so many more of these. Grantaire would make sure I never left the slums. Elle would make sure I never left the Inn. And Enjolras...Enjolras would make sure I never felt comfortable in my own mind again. The guilt alone would have be bunched in a ball in the corner of some gringy room. What had I done? What had I gotten myself into? I could feel my heart racing and my palms sweating and my knees threatening to give out as I mindlessly allowed Joly to take me through the hallway to the flat's second bathroom.

"When's the last time you vomitted?"

"This morning, I guess." My voice sounded shy and distant to me, but I'm sure it sounded normal to him. Grantaire appeared a breath later, leaning against the door frame as Joly checked my pulse.

"Just before you, Courfeyrac, and Pontmercy arrived." The drunk said.

"What've you been taking?" Joly lowered his voice after beckoning Grantaire out. The idiot did the exact opposite and the door clicked behind him. Grantaire knelt beside me, awkwardly patting my leg. "You can trust me. We have a doctor-patient," Joly glanced at Grantaire. "-drunk confidentiality."

I roughly wiped a stray tear away and pulled the wrapped leaves from my dress. Joly took out one of the leaves and flipped it in his hands, squinted at it, and sniffed it. I slouched in the chair and bit back a sob as Joly continued his impromptu diagnosis. My stomach was tossing and twisting with every second that passed by. I went through various excuses, various threats, and various escape plans in such a short time. Never before had I been so glad that my father had taught me how to be quick on my feet. I memorized exit routes on my first night here. Today I would just have to chose one that would be quick and easy to access. My thoughts came to a sudden stop when Joly jumped to his feet without warning.

"Where'd you get these? Did you find them yourself? Did someone give them to you? How long?" Joly started spitting out strings of questions. "Who? When? Do Elle and Enjolras know? Does he know? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Wow, kiddies, I know we're all eager to hear all the lovely, biting words that flow from Eponine's mouth; but please, one at a time. What in God's name are you talking about?" Grantaire's head must have been spinning from all the questions. I was completely sober and was still trying to comprehend everything the doctor asked. Grantaire had been drunk for the past two hours.

"These are raspberry leaves!" Joly whispered excitedly.

"What?" I barked, snatching the leaf from Joly. I did everything he had done. It sure as hell didn't look like a raspberry leaf. That sneaky bitch!

My heart started beating more rapidly than it ever had. I could feel the walls closing in around me, and the two schoolboys in the room seemed to grow an inch with every ticking second. I clutched my chest, my neck, my stomach. My stomach. A choked sob escaped my lips as I sank back onto the chair. That bitch. I felt the bile boiling in my stomach a moment before I was leaning over basin in the corner. I left all inhibitions on the chair and kept all conciousness back as I let the tears pour.

"Joly!" Grantaired hissed, rushing to hold my hair back. "What in hell?"

"Raspberry leaves are assosiated with fertility." Joly explained simply.

Grantaire's drunk mind processed the information rather quickly. I could see his gears turning as he made sense of it all. Realization showed clearly on his face as his eyes grew wide and brought his hand to his mouth. Fantastic. Fucking fantastic. In less than five minutes, I had managed to mess up multiple people's lives. One stupid mistake had such huge consequences.

"Joly, go get her a glass of water and don't talk to anyone. Get the water and come right back without so much as a murmur to any of those idiots out there. You got me?" Grantaire waved the doctor away. "Are you going to tell him?"

"I don't know." I choked out.

"What do you mean you don't know? It's his child afterall, isn't it?"

"Of course it is!" I shoved him. "This is going to ruin him, and you know it! If I tell him, he's going to feel obligated to raise it, and he'll just turn into a bitter, frigid man because of the dreams he had that were never acted on. You know him, Grantaire."

Grantaire rose to his feet and ran his fingers through his hair. "Damn, Thenardier." Grantaire let out a heavy sigh.

.

_2 M__arch 1831_

I sat outside the meeting at the bar with the bartender and his young daughter. Someone important was back there talking to the idiots, so I got stuck out of the action with the usual drunks. One of them kept hitting on me, even if I moved, he would find me and tell me how pretty I was. I should have told him I was pregnant, then I could have watched the fat man run for the hills. Another freak with three missing teeth kept touching my arm whenever he got the chance. After one creep tried sticking his tongue down my throat, I gave up on waiting for Enjolras and fled to the streets. I had all the patience in the world. But I would not stand by and let drunks assault me while I waited to talk to someone. Ridiculous.

"Stupid bastard." I didn't know if I was refering to Enjolras or the throat diver. "Stupid." I shook my head and smoothed out my dress, my hand lingering over my abdomen. "Stupid girl."

There was a doctor in the slums that most of the dock whores went to when they ended up pregnant. They usually disappeared for two weeks then were right back out there doing what they did best. But Enjolras...He deserved to know, right? If anything, telling him would play out for me in the end. Even if I didn't get all the money, surely Enjolras would marry me. Then I would have to live with him, there'd be nothing father could say to get be back in the Inn. Azelma, though. He'd raise the price up for her. Probably to something that neither Enjolras nor Grantaire could afford. If I told him that I was pregnant then I'd have the security of a home, and I had successfully kept him from this stupid revolution. Elle was right. The government wouldn't even blink if they had to use Enjolras as an example to all rebels. His head on a stake. That's how history would remember him. I sighed. A martyr.

I leaned against a vacant building after what seemed like hour of walking. In reality, I had probably only been walking a few minutes. Moments seems so much longer when your mind kept going over and over the same things. I sank to the ground, crying as I did. What did I do? I should have never let Grantaire take me home. I should have stayed there and soaked up the pain and got on with life like I always did. I would have never slept with Enjolras. And I would have kept on living in an ignorant bliss that Marius and I were in love. Now what? I was healed and healthier than I had ever been. I'd slept with Enjolras more times than I can count. And I was falling in love with him...baby or not. He treated me like the lady I would never be. I was falling for him, and he was smitten with some proper lady. I was selfish. I was pregnant. I trapped him.

"Hey, lady!" I hid my face in the crook of my elbow at the sound of some idiots approaching. "You know scumbags are out patrolling right now. You'll be on their nightly pickups if you don't move." He laughed harshly.

I rolled my eyes. Of course it's him.

"Don't be rude, Grantaire."

The sound of his voice rocked my body with sobs even more. I contemplated running away as quick as I could, but where would I go? Back to their flat? They would follow me. So I stayed on the ground and continued to bawl my eyes out. My soul, really. What was left, at least.

"Madmoiselle..." Enjolras's voice was soft as the two got closer. "Eponine? Eponine! What's wrong?"

"Eponione?" Grantaire asked and joined Enjolras at my side. They were leaning next to me, one of their hands was on my arm and the other on my ass. Grantaire.

"I'm so sorry." I muttered into the ground, my tears taking the opportunity to sneak into my mouth. "So sorry."

"Sorry for what, Eponine? You've done nothing." Grantaire's hand moved off my ass as Enjolras said it.

"I've ruined everything." I sobbed.

"Come on, Enjolras. We need to get her home before she catches a cold. She's hysterical enough."

I let them get me to my feet, but instead of following them or letting them lead me home, I flung my arms around Enjolras and cried into his chest. I could feel the muscles in his back tense as he struggled with how to react. I whispered over and over again how sorry I was. He would never get the chance to tell that lady how he feels about her, and if he does, it'll be with a heavy concious. I ruined his chances. I ruined my chance at anything but the life of a housewife. I'd never get to see the rest of Europe. Enjolras may have been on to something with his celibate life.

"Give her a hug so we can go, Enjolras. I already know what you two do in your free time, so you might as well make this a heartfelt moment."

"Please don't hate me." I begged into his clothes.

"Hate you? What are you talking about? I'll never hate you."

"Eponine." Grantaire warned.

Taking Enjolras by surprise, I reached up and kissed him passionately. "I care about you so much. Enjolras."

"Eponine, I'm literally on my knees pleading with you to shut your damn mouth. Well, I can literally get on my knees and beg you." Grantaire went to grab me, but Enjolras smacked his arm away. "Ouch!"

"Eponine, what are you talking about?"

Grantaire made one last desperate attempt to get everything in a different direction. And I have to say, it was bold and very unselfish of the drunk to do, but it also earned him a black eye that last a little over a week:

"Enjolras, I'm sleeping with Elle!"

**I'm really in a stump over how Enjolras is going to find out. I have several different ideas, and I'm working on writing a chapter's worth for all of them; and hopefully something pops out or blends well. That's one reason this chapter took forever.**

**Please review! All your support makes me so happy and motivated!:)**


	10. Marius

**Sorry it's taken so long! The past weeks in college have been really demanding:( But it's summertime now!:D**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing**

_3 March 1831_

Enjolras shifted in his sleep, pressing his body closer to mine. I could tell him, I thought as I moved his hand down to my abdomen. I closed my eyes and took in the moment, pretending like he knew and was thrilled. Pretending like we had fallen asleep like this, instead of me crying myself to sleep while he bounced around the room like a jumping bean. Some minutes he would be pacing at the foot of the bed while he tried understanding how he was oblivious to Grantaire and Elle's past relationship (Grantaire swore to me that he hadn't touched or thought about Elle for the past two months...convientenly the amount of time he's known Azelma). Other times he would be at his desk, trying to take his mind off the insanity by devoting his efforts to schoolwork and the rebellion. Then when he couldn't stand the thought process of anything else, he would be in bed with me. Holding me and whispering words of comfort in my ear. But the more he whispered, the worse I felt. Of course, all three situations repeated themselves until I fell asleep, and I'm sure they continued even after.

"Enjolras." I whispered into the darkness.

The look on Enjolras's face when Grantaire told him about Elle was like someone had told him they skinned his favorite cat. He didn't even say a word to the drunk before he lead me home at a quick pace so that Grantaire's drunk self couldn't keep up. Elle was the one who gave Grantaire the black eye. Azelma and I were sitting on the couch when Enjolras, Grantaire, and Elle had their argument in the kitchen. Even then, Grantaire didn't get so much as a grunt from Enjolras. It was Elle yelling at Grantaire for telling Enjolras, Enjolras yelling at Elle for not telling him first, and Grantaire defending himself and yelling random words to get Enjolras's attention. The argument ended with Elle's fist making contact with Grantaire's face, which Azelma and I heard clearly. Afterwards, Elle came storming out of the kitchen, barking at Azelma that she could have 'that God-damned bastard'. Grantaire followed and went right to the liquor cabinet, 'I swear to God and you two that I haven't slept with that crazy bitch in two months.' He shook his head and downed his drink when Enjolras finally came out.

I turned over in Enjolras's arms. It was too dark to tell if he was still sleeping or stirring at all. I scooted closer to him, closing the space between us and dipping my hands under the covers. I placed a soft kiss on his lips, and draped my arm over his waist. No, he was out cold. I nuzzled up against him, letting the sound of his heart lull me. Once again, I flipped over in his arms, my back to him, and I put his hand over my abdomen again. At least I could pretend while he slept. While he slept there was no rebellion, no deals, and no schoolboys. While he slept there was just the three of us. No lies. Everything was bare. I sighed and relished the feeling. I was brave while he slept. There was nothing in the way of me telling him the truth. Nighttime brought out the reality in every situation. People stop hiding from the light of day. The moon has a funny way of shedding light on everything.

"We're going to have a baby." I said softly. "Can you feel her?" I pressed Enjolras's hand more firmly against my abdomen.

In my mind, he answered me. A typical Enjolras response. It would have included money matter, university worries, and rebellion talk. He probably would have rattled on about the three as if I hadn't just told him. He would have gotten up and started polishing something that didn't need to be polished, or scrub something that was already dirt-free. Then he would have finished a week's worth of school work. He would have poured himself a glass of wine, but he wouldn't take a sip. He does that sometimes...pours himself something because if he wanted to drink it then it was there, but he was too wrapped up in his own thoughts to even use his will to take the drink. Grantaire usually downed it for him. Anyway, after Enjolras would go through all his distractions, he would climb back into bed with a name.

"You don't have to help if you don't want to. Mama raised Azelma and I practically on her own. My father was always out doing business even before we lost the Inn. It was more respectable business then. Besides, I know you'll be plucking up enough courage and charm to talk to your lady friend any day now. I wouldn't want to stand in the way of true love. It's not really fair to me either, is it? How am I to find my true love if I'm too busy trying to figure out if I'm falling in love with you or not?"

I snapped my mouth shut when Enjolras grunted in his sleep and pressed himself closer to me, tightening his grip on my abdomen.

"Enjolras?" I squeaked, my pulse racing. "What will the school boys think of me? What will Marius say? I don't know if he'll be more disappointed with the fact that it's not his baby or that he didn't even see it coming." I paused. "Clearly the latter." I imagined Enjolras agreed with me. "I know Marius will never love me. I'm not a silly girl. If I died, he'd blink but never stir...Would you stir?" I think I prefered silence to an answer.

After another few minutes, I wiggled my way out of Enjolras's embrace and disappeared into Grantaire's room. Azelma was snoring lightly, her body cuddled into a little ball. She always slept that way. I shed my night clothes in the corner and hurried to slip into the drunk's clothes that I usually wore when I wanted to go walking in the night. Not many people stopped a 'boy' wandering the streets. Most scum would rather pester the whores and prostitutes compared to seeing what they could get a boy to do for them.

I didn't get far outside when I caught sight of someone who had my heart pounding and my mind racing. I stuffed my hair in my hat, bowed my head, and tried keeping to myself as I neared the house he was standing before. My footsteps seemed to be as loud as gunshots. It was probaby just me imagining things, but I still tried walking different ways to decrease the noise. He was muttering to himself as he read from a piece of paper under the light of a lantern. Old habits had me walking slower, hoping to catch his attention. I couldn't help it. I knew I didn't want to and shouldn't, but old habits die hard. By accident, honestly, I kicked a stone as I was in clear view.

"Boy." Marius whispered urgently.

I kept my head down and tried turning back in the direction I had come from.

"Hey, I have money for a favor."

"Sorry, monsieur." I shouldn't have talked. I shouldn't have talked. Marius knew all my voices.

I gasped a little too loudly when he grabbed my arm as I tried running.

"Eponine?" Marius yanked the hat from my head. "God, Eponine, the things you do." He stuffed the hat in my hands. I wanted to tell him that I wasn't doing this for him, I was honestly just out for a walk, but he went on. "Since you're here, you might as well help me. Who lives here?" He asked me, pointing to the house he had been standing outside of.

I glanced around the neighborhood nervously. "Marius, we shouldn't be here. You know my father and his gang are out in this neighborhood around these hours." I peered down the road.

"Well, what are you doing here?"

"I was out for a walk." I snapped.

"Your mother being a bit much?" He asked, now nervously glancing around for my father, too.

"I haven't stayed at the Inn for over two months, Marius. Didn't you wonder why Azelma and I were at Enjolras and Grantaire's that night you brought that Lark for dinner? Or the other week when you and the other idiots were over looking at Enjolras's sketches?" When I thought I caught a glimpse of one of my father's drones, I pulled Marius into one of the alleys.

"I just figured you were smitten with Grantaire."

"Grantaire?" I frowned. "Why would you think I was smitten with that raggedy, old drunk?" Gross. Just the idea of Grantaire. Ew.

Marius shrugged, stealing a peak into the street. "I mean, when you were smitten with me, you trailed me like a puppy dog. I guessed that's what you were doing with Grantaire."

I stared at his back as he watched over the street. He knew? He knew all this time? I could feel the tears welling up in my eyes and my stomach turning over and over. He knew. He knew how I felt about him, and he just let me go on making a fool of myself? Years! He must have known for years. Years of having me run around looking for the larks he 'loves', and all the while he knew what he was doing to me. He was slowly killing my fire and passion. If he would have just told me...And here I was so worried that our love wouldn't stand a chance because of the feelings I was developing for Enjolras. The feelings that had developed. I felt like I was betraying Marius this whole time, but he wouldn't have even cared. He thought I was smitten with Grantaire! I was a mix of emotions. I was hurt, upset, relieved, and pissed all at the same time. So I pushed him.

"You knew this whole time?" I hissed, giving him another shove. "You let me carry on like a fool for you." I pushed him into the alley wall. "I would have went to hell and back for you, and you used me!" Another shove. "You're a sick bastard, Marius Pontmercy." I spit as his feet.

"And you're delusional! What urchin would keep coming back after everything?" Marius laughed coldly.

"An urchin in love with you!" I cried, turning away from him and furiously wiping my tears away. Why was I getting upset over Marius now? I liked Enjolras. I was with his child. Marius was ancient history. But, I suppose, the hurt was very much in the present.

"'Ponine..." Marius put a hand on my shoulder.

"No." I jerked away from him. "It doesn't even matter anymore. If I did before, I don't anymore. I've moved on." I tried sounding confident, but I sounded more like a scared, little girl. I leaned into the wall and let out a sob. "I'm sorry." I muttered.

"What's the matter? What are you sorry for?"

"Hey!" A shout came from the opposite end of the alley.

Marius grabbed my shoulders and faced me towards him. "Eponine, it's me. Tell me what's wrong!" He whispered urgently.

"Pontmercy, is that you?" Grantaire's voice boomed. "Thank God you found Eponine here. I've been looking for her all night. She's catching a cold, so you know the last thing she needs is to be out and about." Marius's face was instantly replaced by Grantaire's. He looked me in the eyes and then back to Marius as he put an arm around me. "Have you two been out here long?"

"No, not even half of an hour." Marius looked around. "She saved me from getting in a potential rough with her father. She keeps apologizing for something."

"She's delusional." Grantaire smirked. "Thanks again, my friend. Hurry home and stay out of sight, will you?" I watched Marius as he took off running. I can't believe he knew. Now what did I have? Marius would never love me. Enjolras would eventually leave me. Grantaire wasn't for me. All I'd have is the baby of a man who loved some Parisian lady. "You listen to me, Thenardier," Grantaire cupped my face and stared me hard in the eyes. "You've got to stop apologizing. You've done nothing wrong. These late night walks need to stop. The crying needs to stop. You're a strong, beautiful woman. If anyone can take on the shit the world deals, it's you. Look how far you've come. You've got to stop worry about the future. And you've got to stop fretting over Enjolras. The truth will come out when it's meant to. You hear me?" I nodded. "I mean it."

"I hear you." I said between sniffles.

"Seriously, kid." Grantaire shook his head and kissed my forehead before wrapped his arms around me.

I cried into him, letting out loud and obnoxious sobs. "I'm scared." I shuddered at the word.

"You don't need to be."

"I don't have anyone." I murmured as Grantaire started walking me home. "Marius doesn't love me. He's never going to love me. I was just a pawn to him. Someone he could use to run errands for him. And Enjolras...I'm no good for him." I sucked in sharply. "I'm just weighing him down. This baby..this thing. How is he going to woo that lady if I'm chaining him with this thing?"

"What are you talking about?" Grantaire stopped us and grasped my shoulders again. "You've got me, you'll always have me. You're basically the coolest thing to happen to my apartment since the liquor cabinet. Besides, if you go then I'm stuck dealing with Elle and Enjolras alone. And one man cannot take on that responsibility. I can't go back to living life that way." Grantaire shook me lightly. "And this lady you're speaking of? If by lady you mean final exams and by woo you mean pass, then your _baby_ won't hinder him."

"I'm talking about a lady, Grantaire." I shrugged out of his grip. "A flesh and blood lady."

Grantaire laughed and followed me when I walked away from him. "Enjolras isn't meaning to woo any lady. Trust me, I would know."

"No, he's in love with some lady." I snapped. "A friend." I added bitterly.

"Thenardier, the only person Enjolras occupies his time with who doesn't have a penis is you. He doesn't even make an effort to socialize with any other lady. If you ask me, this lady you're kicking yourself over is probably you."

"Well, I didn't ask you." I grunted as he held the door to the complex open for me.

"Think about it." Grantaire said. We walked up the stairs slowly. "What lady is Enjolras friends with who doesn't already have a man?" I searched every memory I had of the girls who hang around the cafe. I could name three. Well, one of them didn't really count. So two. He could be in love with one of them. I bet it was that Janelle one. She was a real book type. I bet they bonded over Locke.

Grantaire and I did our best to be as silent as possible when we walked into the apartment. You know, it was the dead of the night and we didn't want to wake Azelma or Enjolras. But there was already a ruckus when we walked in. There was that first moment of utter silence; it was followed by a loud bang, though. Like a door being slammed shut. I nearly jumped out of my skin, and Grantaire grabbed my arm protectively. It sounded like it was coming from the bedroom. I yanked my arm away from the perpetual drunk and hurried towards the noise. All I could was someone had come in through the window or front door and went for Enjolras. Now the two of them were fighting. I think I was panicking. My heart was racing. This was all my fault if they came through the front door. I should have never went wandering at this hour. But no. I'm expecting a full out brawl and walk into find a frazzled Enjolras. And the only thing he was fighting with was his pants.

"You've got your pants on backwards, my friend." Grantaire nodded to Enjolras's pants.

"Where've you been?" Enjolras barked at me, still ignoring the drunk.

"I went for a walk." I said indifferently as I took my hat off and fluffed my hair like it was no big deal where I had been in the midle of the night. Enjolras looked incredulously at me and then to Grantaire. "This place is suffocating me."

Grantaire rolled his eyes.

"Eponine, it's freezing out!"

"It's not that bad."

"You're sick."

"I'm tired."

"Don't do this." Grantaire grumbled.

"What is going on with you? You're acting crazy." Enjolras snapped.

"Because this place is suffocating me! This apartment! This room! You!"

"I'm suffocating you?" Enjolras gave me a look that told me how full of bull shit I sounded. "If this place is suffocating you, if I'm suffocating you," Enjolras walked past me into the hallway. "Then leave." He held his arm down the hall.

"Are you serious?"

"You eat my food, hog my covers, unorganize everything, borrow money for the most ridiculous things...a place with no you would be a welcome change."

"You two! You're acting ridiculous. Do I need to put you in separate corners?"

"Grantaire, shut up!" Enjolras and I bit at the same time.

"No!" The drunk shot back. "You two, shut up! Enjolras, my friend, I get it: You're upset because she was gone when you woke up. You were worried something happened to her, so her cold indifference set you off. I get it. And Eponine, you've got a lot going on in that nogin of yours. You're scared and excited and nervous. I understand. You feel alone and conflicted. Story of my life." Grantaire shoved Enjolras back in the bedroom. "But you two are driving me nuts. Now, if you have something to say to each other, and I know you both do, say it now. Or I'm kicking you both out of my flat. Honestly. Azelma will be the only one staying." I stared at the drunk. He sounded so serious. It was weird.

"I know about the deal with your father." Enjolras said after some time.

"What?" I choked out.

"I know about it, Eponine." Enjolras sighed.

"I have no deal with him." I lied.

Enjolras gave Grantaire a beckoning look before the drunk left and Enjolras turned his attention back to me. "I'm not mad, but I know." I watched him cautiously as he held my shoulders. "I'm going to do whatever I have to." He added softly. I shook my head. How did he know? How was he not pissed? "No, shh, it's okay. I want to help you." Enjolras cupped my face and ran a thumb over my cheek. "We'll give your father enough money to keep him quiet for enough time, so we can send you and your sister away to America where he can't find you. You'll be safe."

I was panicking again. I could feel my pulse picking up, and the thought of never seeing Enjolras again started to scare me. Was it selfish of me to not want to leave?

"We can't go to America." I told him, shaking my head.

"Or we send you and Azelma to England. Anywhere you want." Enjolras promised.

"We need to stay here." I whispered, taking his hand in mine.

"You can't stay in Paris, Eponine. Between the rebellion and your father, Paris is no place for you and Azelma to start your lives."

"_We _need to stay here." I repeated, but this time I held his hand to my abdomen and repeated it one more time. "We need to stay here."

**I promise next chapter will be a longer one!**

**In the meantime, tell me what you think:)**


	11. Cade

**WARNING: I didn't run spell check, because I just wanted to get it out to you guys as fast as I could! Sorry in advance!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Enjolras snatched his hand back so fast that you would have thought touching me would burn him. He stumbled backwards and into the door. I watched him cautiously. I didn't know whether to console him or yell at him to buck up. He could handle leading a rebellion but a baby? He clams up at the thought of a baby? At least a baby won't get your head on a stick. Well, I suppose it was the two thoughts forced together that could have been eating him quickly. Anyway, Enjolras stared at the hand that touched my abdomen as he twisted in in front of him. His eyes were squinted as if his hand was this whole new thing, and he was just getting acquainted with the feeling. I risked a step as he sunk to the floor, making a loud thud as his rear came in contact with the wood. Enjolras didn't even seem to notice I was in the room. He was so caught up by the thoughts that were circulating in that thick skull of his.

I remember when mama got pregnant just after that brat Cosette left with the con man. Azelma was so excited for someone else to do her chores, I thought the new baby could be my new baby doll, but father didn't think either of those things. It was another mouth to feed, another back to clothe, another bum to wash, and another preventable to blow money on. I was too young to remember how he reacted when mama got pregnant with Azelma, but I remember how livid he was when she got pregnant with that baby. I also remember him taking her out the back door, and I remember neither of them returning for a good week. I remember mama locked in her room, crying for weeks. But most of all, I remember promising myself, as Azelma and I laid waiting for her outside her door, that I would rather die than have this happen to me. My life and sanity felt more to me than some parasite that was going to make me fat and ruin any relationship I'd have. And now where was I? Pregnant. Alone. Sleeping with a rebel. It was a dangerous combo, and one of us was bound to get hurt.

"I..." I tried but stopped talking. I didn't trust my own voice.

Maybe if I let him know that I didn't need help or him then he would calm down. I justed needed him to know. It was his right, right? He deserved to know, right? Right. It was the honorable thing to do. What would I have said if I popped out this kid in a few months? Oh...this is awkward...the baby isn't yours? No. He's lose all respect for me. I needed to reassure him with something. The silence was killing me. He was just sitting there like I had told him that all his hopes and dreams were out of reach now. Well, I suppose in a way they were. Right now, at least. Once he knew he wasn't needed, he wouldn't have to reevaluate his life choices. I opened my mouth again but shut it quickly. What was I going to say? How did I start that kind of conversation? Pulling myself together, I sat down next to him and just said the first thing that came to my mind.

"Even before we lost everything," I stared, then paused to clarify 'we' meant my family. I felt like Enjolras in his disheveled state could have interpretted it as him and me. "My father was pretty absent. He was always out doing business or drinking in town with old friends. I guess you could say that mama raised Azelma and me herself. So one baby can't be that hard."

He didn't respond in any way. Just sat there watching the ground.

"Enjolras..." I choked out.

Nothing.

"Please say something." I begged.

Enjolras craddled his hand and then rubbed both his hands together. "My parents." He muttered and lowered his hands. He nodded to himself and repeated himself, looking up at the edge of the bed.

"Your parents?" I turned to him. "What are you talking about?"

"Are you sure?" It bugged me that he wouldn't look at me.

"No, I'm making all this up, because it's giving me the biggest kick of my life." I bit sarcastically. Even that didn't phase him. He got to his feet and crossed his arms over his chest as he glanced around the room. "That's it? You have nothing else to say?" I scrambled to my feet as he opened the door.

"My friend, make sure she gets some rest." He told Grantaire. "We're leaving to see my parents in the morning."

"Your parents?" I barked.

"You're taking her to meet Jean and Christelle?" Grantaire's mouth dropped. "Why don't you just throw her into a pit of snakes? It'll be less painful." My heart started racing. Was this a ploy to get me to terminate the pregnancy?

"What's wrong with his parents?" I sounded panicked as I spoke to Grantaire and then Enjolras. "What's wrong with your parents?"

Well, I can tell you that I did not get any rest whatsoever that night. I stayed up all night, sitting at the edge of the bed, waiting for Enjolras to walk back in. He stayed in the parlor all night, though. I heard him rummaging around in the liquor cabinet when Grantaire was trying to calm me down as I freaked out over meeting Enjolras's parents. What was so bad about them? I feared so much that they were either like my parents or the complete opposite, straight-laced folks. The drunk said he over exaggerated everything, but I saw that look in his eyes when Enjolras told him that we were going to see his parents. It was one of those looks that said he wouldn't even take his worst enemy to meet Enjolras's parents. I glanced over my shoulder at the stupid idiot. Grantaire had fallen asleep on his back over the pillows a few hours before the carriage was due to arrive, but he woke up with a start when someone slammed the front door shut. He jumped into a fetal position, tucking his chin tight against chest and clutching his head tightly...it was strange...

"Grantaire." I crawled over next to him and put my hand on his side. "It was the front door."

Grantaire poked his head up. "The front door?"

I nodded. "Are you okay?" I asked cautiously.

"Me?" He cleared his throat. "I'm fine. What time is it? Sunrise?" He added glancing out the window. "It's just been a while since I've had a drink."

"Oh, you need a drink?" Elle appeared in the doorway, causing Grantaire to nearly wet himself. "You better get use to those night terrors, because you won't have another drink for the next three days."

"What?" The drunk's face fell.

"Was Enjolras not clear? Or is your nut-sized brain incapable of understanding anything but liquor names?" Ouch. "When he said 'we', he meant _all_ of us." Elle gave him a bittersweet smile before he stormed from the room, probably to find Enjolras. She turned to me. "You look like you haven't gotten any sleep."

"I'm a bit nervous." I admitted as Elle looked through the dresses in the closet.

"Yeah, well," She paused at a green one but quickly dismissed it. "My parents are quite interesting."

"They can't be that bad."

"You can't wear red, because it's a harlot color. Black is for funerals. White implies you think you're pure, and that means you're not. Orange and yellow mean you're looking to attract attention. Green could cover up grass stains. Purple and blue suggest royalty or wealth, and my parents don't like associating with people who flaunt that. Grey is for factories. But everything is changed if the shades are light. Light red is warm and inviting, but my mother hates the color. Light orange can only be worn at the end of the summer or middle of fall. Light yellow is for springtime or summer. Light green makes my father queasy. Neither of them have a problem with light purple, but I don't own a light purple dress. And Enjolras doesn't like light blue. How you dress, how you wear your hair, and how you compose your face means a lot to them. Appearance means a lot to them."

"What am I supposed to wear then?"

"Teal." Elle grinned at the dress she pulled out.

"What do your parents associate with teal?"

"Enjolras coming home." She muttered.

"Is that a good or bad thing?"

Elle shrugged, "It could be either or."

I nodded as Elle sat me in the chair so she could work on my hair. She didn't say anything to me all the while, and I was starting to wonder if Enjolras had told her what brought upon this little visit. Every part of me wanted to know, but no part of me wanted to ask. I mean, she would say something eventually if she did know. This was Elle. So I waited. I waited to see if she was gentler on me as she dolled me up or yanked harder as she combed my hair. Nothing worse than usual. Just silence and the mumbling of the guys in the other room.

"Do you know what made Enjolras decide to visit your parents?" I braved up and played dumb.

"I was just going to ask you the same thing." Elle played with a lock of my hair absently as she looked at us in the mirror. "He just came knocking on my door late last night saying that he sent some boy with some money for a carriage to take us to the country in the morning, and now here we are."

"Here we are." I repeated silently.

"Joly's coming to care for your sister while we're gone." I snapped my head to her. "Oh, don't worry. I'm fairly certain he's attracted to men." She said as she beckoned for me to get into the dress. "I mean, he's never even looked at me."

Azelma was waiting in the parlor with the boys when Elle and I came out, physically ready for the weekend. Enjolras stared into the burning fire, keeping his attention away from me. I couldn't help but feel a knot in the pit of my stomach. He didn't want me anymore? I repulsed him now? I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep my emotions at bay. The last thing I needed was for my insane emotions to start acting like I'd been weak skinned my entire life. I took beating regularly. I can handle this pregnancy.

"The carriages are here." Grantaire told us before addressing Enjolras and Elle. "Let's move the luggage outside and give the sisters some goodbye time."

"It's a weekend." Elle snapped.

"No, Grantaire's right." Enjolras mumbled. "Five minutes should be enough, right?" He asked Grantaire.

I scowled. Grantaire's the middleman now? You can't even ask me if five minutes is sufficient enough time to tell my sister that you decided I'm going to meet your parents for the weekend after I told you that I'm carrying your child? You could have said five minutes, and I would have been completely okay with that. I dropped a bombshell on you, I get it. You're worrying about school, the revolution, your family, and now I've, we've, added a baby to that mix. But ignoring me isn't a solution to your problem.

"Five minutes is fine." I said coolly.

"Ready?" He looked to his sister and friend. I crossed my arms over my chest.

"Don't you and 'Ponine need luggage?" Azelma asked Elle.

Elle waved her hand dismissively. "I have a room full of fluffs and frills at home."

I watched as each of them said bye to Azelma. Elle actually gave her a hug and patted her check before practically floating away. It was strange. Maybe she was so happy to be going home that she aquired a new fondness for Azelma? Enjolras was formal. He kissed her cheeks, gave her a little bow, and a quick grin. Grantaire was who I watched carefully, though. I might have been imagining it; but his kisses seemed to last longer that socially acceptable, his hug looked more intimate and definitely left little room between them, and either his took one last shot of alcohol before Elle and I got out or his eyes were twinkling because of my sister. I didn't know who I felt was beneath who.

"Is it just me..." Azelma glanced at the door. "Or does Elle seem...lighter than usual?"

"I'm still in utter shock that she has more dresses."

Azelma smiled, but it quickly faded. "I know why you're going to the country." She grabbed my hand and gave it a squeeze. "He thought I was asleep on the couch. I'm just very good at faking." She grinned, proud of what she picked up from venturing down to the docks.

"What did he say?"

She laughed to herself. "He was playing out scenarios. I'm assuming they were how his parents would react."

I rolled my eyes. "What if they don't like me?" I whispered as if someone would overhear. You know, with all the people in this flat.

"What if they don't like you? They probably won't!" Azelma shook her head and hugged me tightly. "But who cares. You're Eponine Thenardier! Since when has public opinion kept you from doing anything?"

"It's different now, 'Zel." I hissed.

"No." She said firmly as someone knocked on the door. "The situation changes, but you never should. Treat this like you would anything else. It doesn't matter if his family is rich or dirt poor. You do what you were raised to do." She gave me one last hug before leading me out the door.

Grantaire was leaning against the wall next to Elle's door. "I know it wasn't five minutes, but Enjolras has his petticoat in a knot. Joly and Courfeyrac are downstairs for Azelma."

Joly was standing next to the horses, rubbing his eyes in attempt to wake himself up. Courfeyrac wasn't even attempting to keep himself up. He was sitting on the ground, his head rested on one of the stairs, and light snores escaped his mouth. I think I remember all the boys teasing Courfeyrac once or twice for being enrolled at the University, but if you asked anyone there who he was, they'd assume you were talking about a ghost. I tapped him with my shoe when we passed him and grinned when he woke with a start. I glanced at Enjolras and Elle as Courfeyrac grabbed Azelma's bag. The siblings were both already in the carriage. Enjolras was staring out at the street, and Elle was admiring her nails.

The whole ride, all I wanted to do was fall asleep on Grantaire's shoulder. Because he was sitting next to me. Anyway, all I wanted to do was sleep, but just my luck Enjolras would want to talk just as I fell into a deep sleep. So I stared out the window, but sent glances around the carriage every once in a while so that he didn't think I was daydreaming. Did he say anything, though? No. Not once. It's not like I didn't try to get a rise out of him, he just wouldn't have it.

"What if your parents won't let you in?" I had tried. "I mean, you were kind of shunned, weren't you?" He just shared a look with Elle.

"You know what we should do when we get back to Paris, Grantaire?" I patted his arm excitedly. "Take a few shots of the green fairy!" Enjolras glared at Grantaire for smiling.

I had a brilliant idea, though. After I caught Enjolras gazing at my abdomen twice, I guess you could say I had an epiphany. First I started off by adjusting my position every other minute or so. It earned me a cocked eyebrow from Grantaire, to which I jerked my head towards Enjolras. I don't know if he understood what I was saying, but I had to assume no. I added pained expressions after a little while, my father taught me all the different degrees of painful expressions. You'd be surprised how many times I actually used it. I didn't do the expression too much, it would have looked like I was trying to hard. Enjolras stole another glance just as I started rubbing my abdomen, making my breaths shallow and curt. This got him to stare at me for longer than a second. I kept my gaze on the landscape, pretending to pretend like I didn't want my "pains" to be a bother. Out of the corner of my eye, though, I saw him nudge Elle.

Elle let out a huff and called for the driver's attention, "Monsieur!" He called something in achknowledgment. "Stop the carriage! I beg of you." She said the last part with sarcastic enthusiasum.

Elle sat back in her seat, and Enjolras gave her a look of grim satisfaction. Alright, not what I intended, but I could work with it. I crossed my ankles, purposely knocking mine against Grantaire's to get his attention. I apologized quietly, raising my eyebrows. If there was a God in Heaven, Grantaire would understand my silent pleas. The carriage seemed to take forever to stop. I'm sure it wasn't that long, I was just so anxious to reroute this plan that time kind of slowed down. When we jolted to a final stop, my stomach jumped into my throat. I couldn't even speak to excuse myself. I acted like I was fidgetting to put my gloves on as I tried to think up a new plan since it didn't appear as the drunk and I were on the same page.

"Well, go on Elle." Grantaire spoke up when I got both gloves on. "You told him to stop, so you might as well escort her out." Oh. Apparently we were.

"I'm not going out there." Elle snorted. "No offense, Eponine. But these shoes were not made for trecking through uncivilized ground." She added.

"Enjolras-"

"No." Enjolras cut off Grantaire off sharply.

I let out an annoyed sound. Just because I said I could handle this pregnancy by myself didn't mean I was excusing him for treating me like the plague.

"I'm perfectly capable of escorting myself." I snapped. "I wouldn't want it to be any colder outside anyway."

I slammed the carriage door, hoping the tiniest bit that I broke it. I glanced around at the country as some stray tears trickled shamefully down my cheeks. I supposed the area wasn't too country. There were a lot of trees, a bunch of trees grouped together, a few rocks organized in some set fashion, and a building or two in the distance. Large of areas of grass were placed here and there. It was like the country side was specifically organized to contrast every other kilometer. I clutched my coat closer to me and looked towards the trees that could have been a small forest. Woodland, I guess? Shakily, I moved forward, stopping at the carriage driver's side.

"How thick is the woodland over there?" I asked, roughly wiping my tears away.

"Depends." He shrugged, keeping his gaze forward. I was a little thrown off my his accent. I'd never heard it before.

"On what?"

"What you're looking to do, of course."

"Of course." I rolled my eyes.

"Are you looking to get lost? To stay lost? For a getaway?"

"Wow," I laughed. "I bet I could guess which you'd choose."

He smirked and gave me a side glance and then did a double take. "You know, that woodland is full of some scary things. A lady like you might need an escort in there."

I snickered and copied his smirk. "I'm no lady."

The driver licked then bit his bottom lip. I think I blushed a little bit. He may have been a driver for high society, but he was still a class higher than the Thenardiers. Mama would shit herself if she knew how much attention a nice bath could get you. I'm sure I could arrange to steal her away from the Inn and bribe Elle to give her a bath.

"Cade." The driver leaned over and offered a hand.

"Eponine." I shook his hand.

"Hey, kiddo." Grantaire hopped out of the carriage. "Cade." He added curtly. "Are you done faking? Enjolras is hoping to get there before the king and queen take their morning walk."

"I'm done." I sighed.

"Good. Now, I'm sure we'll make it there in no time if we don't keep going as slow as a snail."

"Better than rushing like a mad man." Cade muttered.

"Come on, 'Ponine." Grantaire took my elbow and stormed back to the carriage.

.

When they said Enjolras was rich, I had no idea how rich they actually meant. I stared out the window as we passed the gate at the front gardens. That's right. The _front _gardens. They also had north gardens, south gardens, rear gardens, the cook's garden, and dame's garden. If that's not enough, the ditance from the gate to their front door had to be at least two kilometers. I mean, they did need enough room for the front garden. And pond. I think I even saw a park when we first turned into the estate. Surely this place had it's only hospital, school, and church. They were probably all in the back gardens. Sorry, _rear _gardens. It looked like they had every kind of tree imaginable. Well, every tree I had ever seen. And even some I had never. I could just imagine all the different colors they produced in the spring and autumn.

I was so taken by the scenery and grandioseness of the estate that the panicked look in Enjolras's eyes didn't even phase me. I couldn't even wait to get out of the carriage. Just to step foot on this estate...Azelma would freak out! She'd never believe the size and elegance of this place! It was the home mama always wanted and father never achieved. It was everything I was hoping I would get when Marius fell in love with me. The windows looked like they went from floor to cieling. The front door looked like it was made from some type of magic wood. There wasn't one thing I could find that was wrong with it. It was like God had modeled it himself. Oh, what father would give just to look at this place. He'd sell an organ, I bet.

"So it begins..." Elle grinned at the sight of a plump woman peering at the carriage from the second floor window. "Fetch my mother, Sorrel, you old biddy! Tell her that her baby is home." She called at the old woman in the window, adding a rude gesture that I can't imagine any normal girl of Parisian society acceptably giving.

"You think she knows Enjolras is here?" Grantaire asked Elle as Sorrel scrambled off.

"Doubt it." Elle beckoned for her brother to get out. "He's as good as dead to her. After that Christmas before he left." She giggled at the memory.

"She was fine after a week." Enjolras grunted, getting out.

"Eleanor!" A shrill call came from somewhere in the house. Elle frowned at the second shriek.

"It's a small price to pay for the benefits of coming here." Elle commented on the use of her name.

"Eleanor!" It came again as we walked the steps, Cade fumbling behind with the luggage.

"Buck up, brother dearest." Elle patted his shoulder and moved quicker.

"Elea-" The call was cut short when the Elle's mother, I'm assuming that is who the woman was, caught sight of Enjolras. "Enjolras..." She whispered, bringing her hand to her mouth. I thought she was going to cry right there but instead: "JEAN!" I think I almost peed my pants from fright. Honestly, I'm surprised that she didn't break all the glass in her paradise here.

"Mother." Enjolras bowed his head.

"Enjolras." She brought her hands back to her mouth. "Enjolras." She dragged them down and stumbled forward to him. She touched his chest. "Enjolras." His elbows, arms, shoulders, cheeks, and arms again. And again. "Enjolras...my baby!" She kissed each of his cheeks over and over and over again until she had gotten him to crack a sorrowful smile. "Don't stand there like a fool, you old hag, go get the master." She barked at Sorrel. Hello, heritage of Enjolras and Elle's mood swings. I glanced at Grantaire, who nodded in affirmation.

"Better late than never, right, mother?" Elle grinned but her eyes were daggers. I pretended not to notice.

"Oh, where are my manners?" Christelle? Yes, Christelle wiped her tears away and patted her cheeks. "Please, all of you, come in. No use catching an illness to bring down this happy day." Enjolras had her smile. "Is that teal, my dear?" She grabbed my wrist as I passed her. Elle and Enjolras both seemed to stop breathing, anxious for the reaction she would give.

"Yes, Madame." I said softly, because I knew my voice wouldn't go above a whisper.

"It's especially lovely. Such a wonderful color on wonderful fabric. Eleanor, don't you find it especially lovely?"

"It's wonderful, mother." Elle beamed at her work.

"Sorrel!" Christelle called when the door shut behind a struggling Cade. The servants rushed to his aid when Elle snapped her fingers. "You all must be exhausted from the trip. You had to have woken up as early as the servants to get here this early." She laughed breezily. "Marion, find two more and set up rooms for everyone. You must stay for a while. It would be our pleasure." Christelle motioned to her absent husband.

"Oh, mother, the weekend here would be perfect." Elle clapped excitedly.

"Fantastic. Now, where are _your _manners, Eleanor?"

"Of course, sorry, mother." Elle shook her head. "The ride has my mind jumbled. Mother this is Monsieur Grantaire, a very great friend of your dear son's. He's probably the reason why Paris didn't eat him alive. Enjolras owes him his life."

"Grantaire." Christelle looked at Elle. Elle nodded with a grin.

"And this is Madamoiselle Thenardier." Enjolras interjected. My heart skipped a beat. It was silly, really. My heart just fluttered the way he said my name like that. I could swoon. "She's Grantaire's lady love." I could die. The way he said it. It was mortifying, really. My heart stopped.

Grantaire and Elle exchanged looks.

"Thenardier, you say?" I could see the cool indifference in her eyes and hear it in her voice when she repeated my surname. Being a Thenardier was a blessing and curse. We were infamous. Even on the outskirts. "My husband use to do business with a family named Thenardier."

"It must have been a different Thenardier, Madame." The strength of my own voice surprised me. I was sure it had died with my heart. "My father left my mother before I was born."

"Oh, my dear." Christelle clutched her heart. "I'm so sorry. I can't imagine a child growing up without her father." She squeezed my shoulder.

"I wouldn't have wanted him, anyway. How could I want someone who doesn't want me?" I sent a direct look at Enjolras, regardless of where his mother's attention was.

"Well, I wish the best for you two and hope any future children won't have to go through the same tragedy as you." Christelle said but glanced skeptically at her son. I'd probably be getting even more of a silent treatment from him for it, but at this point, he could suck it up. He wasn't the one who'd turn into a social pariah for beind unwed and pregnant. For being unspoken for and pregnant.

"Madame, if you don't mind, may I be excused to freshen up? I feel a bit queasy from the ride."

Christelle snapped her fingers, "Cade," She called the driver to attention. "Make yourself useful and take Madamoiselle Thenardier to my parlor. We'll be in with the master when she catches herself."

Cade bowed in submittance. "I had no idea I was in the presense of...well, I don't even know what to call you." Cade smirked after the rest had left. "Obvious slum royalty when you consider your pedigree. A Thenardier? I feel like I should bow to you or something. Would that make things weird?" I frowned at him. "Yeah. And I mean, come on...Christelle may be a fool, but us hands aren't. How much makeup is caked over that brand? Only an untrained eye couldn't see it." Cade pushed up his sleeve, revealing the spot where Montparnasse branded people in the name of Thenardier.

"Who are you?"

"A commrade." He put it simply.

"Excuse me?"

"How long have you been sleeping with Enjolras?" He asked bluntly. "Better yet, how far along are you? Slum royal princess impregnanted by long lost high society Parisian bachelor. It could be a newspaper headline."

"I..."

"He disowned you pretty quickly, too, didn't he?" He had my attention. "You want to know why Elle hasn't brought Grantaire home to meet mummy and daddy yet? No boy she ever brings home comes back a second time. You know that woodland back a ways away?" I nodded. "It's thick enough for getting lost and dangerous enough for staying lost. No one's survived here long enough for a getaway. A princess like you, I'd be honored to help with any option."

"Cade." I jumped at Enjolras's voice barking at the man. "She doesn't need your horror stories."

"I'm sorry, but who are you to care?" Cade leered. "Her lover's best friend? I don't know about you, Eponine, but I feel like he's got no grounds to interupt our conversation."

"Eponine, he's a snake. As bad as your father." Enjolras warned.

"I don't have a father, remember?" I bit. "Just like I'm not pregnant with your child, and I'm Grantaire's lady love." I glared at him.

"He can explain if you give him the chance later tonight."

"Cade!" Enjolras snapped.

"When his parents are sleeping."

"Cade!"

"If you want to take me up on my offer, Thenardier, I'm in the stables day and night." Cade winked at me. "Your highness." And bowed with mock respect to Enjolras.

"He's no good, Eponine, trust me."

"It's funny how my trust in you dwindles with my opinion of you."

Enjolras looked at me. Really looked at me. In the eyes. I didn't dare break the gaze.

"We'll see if it changes again at the end of this weekend. Hell, by the end of dinner."

"I'm sure I can keep a constant opinion of someone who denies me."

"I'm not denying you, I'm protecting you."

**I'm really excited to start writing how the weekend goes! I have Jean and Christelle's personalities mapped out to ensure drama and comedy:) **

**I love and respect and am grateful for all of you still here with me!**

**Please review!:)**


	12. Reverend

**Thank you for all your support! I love you guys for the reviews and alerts! They brighten my boring summer:)**

**To clear up any confusion from last chapter: Green Fairy is Absynthe. Which is a very strong type of alcohol, so it would NOT be good for someone who is pregnant. **

**Disclaimer: I own a super cool pencil. **

"Enjolras was always our favorite..." Christelle was babbling as we sat in the parlor and waited for her husband to come out of his second consecutive meeting of the morning.

I didn't ask what sort of business he was involved in, and Christelle made to notion to tell us. I figured it was mostly respectable but also a little sly-dealing. Why else would they be familiar with my father? I mean, we were known, but by word of mouth. Thenardiers only did business with people worth doing business with. Mama used to say we didn't have a coin to our name, but we had enough knowledge of people's dirty doings to keep gossip halls and gossip rags putting out stories for the next century. And with the way my father worked, it wasn't hard to believe. Involuntarily, I touched my cheek but quickly brought my hand back to my lap. I'd watched people crack under pressure just at the sight of my father's knife. Others were more determined. But in the end, everyone cracked. People weren't hard or devoted to their beliefs. People are devoted to themselves. You threaten them with pain, a mark, or even death, and they all come to their senses to protect the one person they love more than anything. I looked at Christelle for a few moments as she droned on. Under all those layers, under all that fabric, I wondered if mama had left her mark somewhere on the woman.

"Eleanor was just such a wild child..."

So far, the visit seemed more painful for Elle and Enjolras. I didn't know what Grantaire and everyone else was so horrified by. Maybe Jean had two heads or a missing finger or something. Even then, though, I'd seen worse. I couldn't help but feel sorry Elle. My father was horrible, but he never openly chose favorites like Christelle was doing. Sure, some could say that by him not forcing Azelma into the streets was the ultimate act of favoritism. But I don't believe it. Why put both of us out there when one is sufficient? Why force both of your daughters to witness and take part of horrible things? Besides, I always pictured myself my father's favorite. He taught me everything he knows. I got to go on raids with him, I got to stalk out properties for the gang while the owners slept or were out, and I got to give marks while he stood there and coaxed information or money out of people who owed us. And what did Azelma get? Chores at the Inn. To me, my father gave me his trust.

"...and then finding her with that boy..."

He was there with me the first time I made my own mark. Not practicing on the bar stools at the Inn with a razor. Nor the dead rodents mama had skinned for dinner. The first time I ever made it on a live being. It sent chills down my back just thinking about it. I cried down at the docks with the whores for days afterward until father found me and told me to grow some skin. He told me we were cheated by that old man, and when you cheat anyone you deserve to be reminded of it. He had said that I did society a favor. People would know he's a cheat, and with a daily reminder, he'd think twice before he ever did it again. At the time the words made sense, made me feel better. But now? I can't help but think my father would have said anything just to justify our actions. Anything he said was gold to me, though. He had been my idol, once upon a time. I absently rested my hand on my abdomen. I'd rather my child grow up without a father than idolize one like I had.

"Eponine."

I snapped out of my thoughts and looked at Elle when she called for my attention.

"I'm sorry." I apologized.

Christelle clicked her tongue. "Oh, my dear, you should learn to get your head out of those clouds, or you'll never see what's in front of you." So I'm learning. "I asked about your family. I know you said your father is absent, but surely your mother must be twice the woman then?"

Hardly. "My mother raised me and my two siblings by herself mostly. She never wanted to hire help, because she didn't want us confusing paid compassion for maternal compassion." In all honesty, Azelma and I were raised by anyone who walked through the doors to the Inn. Up until we each turned ten, people thought we were the cutest things. Gavroche was gone the moment he could walk and talk independently.

"You have two siblings?" Enjolras asked, truly intrigued.

I nodded and addressed his mother, "I have a sister not even two years younger, and a brother who's to turn eleven this winter." I bit my tongue after I said it. There was more than five year age difference between Gavroche and me.

"Where were you raised?" Christelle didn't even seem to pick up on my falter.

"Rue Plummet." I said, thinking of the street I found Marius on the last night.

"Very acceptable." Christelle grinned in approval. "And what of your family know? Are you still on Rue Plummet?"

"My mother travels mostly." I lied. "My sister and I live in the same complex as Enjolras. She's in love with some drunk school boy, though. I'm convinced she'll leave with him any day now." Elle scowled and Grantaire grinned. "And my brother ran away not long after mother went to England. Last I heard, he's quite taken with the revolutionary talk and keeps company with the rebels."

"Gavroche?" Enjolras splurt out.

"What was that, my dear?" Christelle looked over at him.

"Nothing, just a sneeze." Enjolras itched his nose.

"Bless you." Grantaire smirked. "Anyway, my love, you were telling us about your family. Your brother's with the rebels you say?"

I nodded, "The ones from the university."

Christelle made a noise of utter disgust, "Those rebels." She rolled her eyes. "France has given them so much, and how do they repay her? With disloyal thoughts? The nerve. You'll find your brother and drag him back by the ear if you know what's good for your family. We have a friend, an Inspector in Paris-"

"You have a friend." Eleanor muttered.

Her mother shot her a look but continued: "He says that they're building a force to squash the rebellion before it even starts." I noticed Enjolras paying close attention. "If only more men thought like him." She cast a sour glance at her husband's door. "Eleanor and her father have never liked the good Inspector. My Enjolras, though, he has a good head on his shoulders." She smiled brightly.

"Mother..." Enjolras frowned.

"Let me have my moments, darling. It's been-"

"For God's sake, Christelle, don't bore the company with your biased rants. Do you want to run Elle off for seven years next?"

My heart sank past my stomach. His high collar and cravat he wore hid it, but I'd recognize him anywhere at any age. It was him. My heart sped up with an all new set of nerves. Of all people. I thanked God silently when he paid no attention to anyone else in his company but his son.

"Enjolras." He gave his son a nod.

"Father." Enjolras stood and said uncertainly.

"We were just talking about our dear friend the Inspector." Christelle informed him. Maybe as a way to ease the tension?

"Your dear friend." Jean and Elle corrected her.

Christelle waved her hand and rolled her eyes, "Technicalities."

"How've you been?" Jean asked Enjolras as if they'd only been parted for weeks.

"Well." Enjolras told him. "Busy." He added.

"I guess we know where all the money we give Elle is going now." Jean said to his wife. "You look tired. Have you slept?" Enjolras shared a look with Grantaire before telling his father he had. "Well, you're here yearly, so I assume the voyage out here was taken at an early hour?" Enjolras nodded. "Sorrel and Ames, please draw up some tea and prepare the west wing parlor for us?" The two servants bowed and left in a mild rush. His use of 'please' made me think that the servants liked him better than his wife.

"My love, this is Monsieur Grantaire and Mademoiselle Thenardier." Christelle introduced me and drunk after everyone had stood. "No relation to the infamous Thenardiers." I felt a feeling of pride when she called us infamous.

"I wasn't aware there were any other Thenardiers." He replied, looking at me the same way Enjolras does when he thinks I've moved his things around.

"Now you are." I said before I could stop myself.

"She's got a mouth like a Thenardier." He grunted, rubbing his hand over his neck. Whether on purpose or not, I wasn't sure.

Enjolras and Elle both gave me the same look as their father lead everyone from the room. I shrugged it off but felt bad about the comment. I forgot, we were doing this whole false profile business. I shook my head as Grantaire stuck his tongue out at me. At least he was as normal as he could get without a spot of alcohol. We trailed the group, Elle dutifully walked behind her mother with her head bowed, and the men were before them.

"My mother wears the pants at my household. Societal norms don't really hinder or help. My father is a very passive man." Grantaire whispered. "I'm an only child; I'm allergic to shellfish; I'm studying politics at the university; and I'm passing with the highest marks."

"Are you really?" I couldn't hide my surprise. I'd have thought he was close to failing. "You know how..." I touched my cheek and he nodded. "I bet you anything he has one." I finished, looking at the master of the house.

"Name your kid after me."

"What?"

"Seriously. I'll take the bet." Grantaire grinned.

"Fine." I smiled.

"What if you win?"

"Then I won't have to name my kid after you. It's a reward, trust me."

Sorrel and Ames had the parlor waiting for us. Ames was standing in the corner by a door as we entered. He was an older man, tall, lean, and wispy looking. His face was relaxed but every other muscle was tensed. He could have been someone's grandfather, someone's father, someone's uncle...he was here, though. And he was probably here before dawn and well after dusk. I could imagine that he lived well over a mile away, so he ran on minimal sleep each day. He probably wasn't bringing that much home to his family. There was probably another job, too. I sighed quietly. He hardly seemed the type to complain, though. He was probably even thankful of his employers. Because, he would say each night to himself, at least I have clothes on my back, food in my belly, and a job to go to. It was true. Even if his mistress was seeming to be bat crap crazy, at least he had a job.

Christelle chatted away, cooed over, and listened with many interruptions as Enjolras was practically interviewed on everything from the past seven years. Elle sat next to her mother, sipping her tea once and a while, gazing out the windows down on the back lawn where Cade was tending to the horses. I wondered if Cade had gotten his job because of Elle or stayed because of her. Or both, I suppose. Enjolras was leaning against the baby grand piano, his body shifted away from his mother, but his head in her direction. I stared at him mostly but caught myself glancing at his father every so often. I watched the way Enjolras let said certain things, the way lies rolled off his tongue, and the way the truth bursted out. He clenched his jaw a lot when his mother talked. Our baby would be lucky if she or he looked like Enjolras. He truly was attractive. More so then he probably gave himself credit for. I took a few deep breaths once horrible things started playing in my head. Well, not horrible, just things he probably wouldn't be okay with under his childhood home.

"Oh please," Elle rolled her eyes at someone Enjolras said.

"Eleanor!"

"Enjolras isn't a blacksmith for the city." She laughed. "He's just saying what he thinks you want to hear, mother. He's still the same mama's boy he was when he walked out of this place. He lives in the flat across from me with these two and her sister."

"Elle." Enjolras warned.

"Sorrel, some wine." Elle ordered. "He's been sharing my bank account since I arrived in Paris, as daddy already pointed out. He's studying at the university. Law. And he's not disaffiliated with politics. He's in the center of it. Enjolras has been the leader of group of schoolboys, in which Grantaire is involved with, who are part of the rebel forces under Lamarque." Elle downed the glass of wine Sorrel had brought her rather quickly. "Oh, I'm sorry, did you want to wait to tell them that, or were you going to keep spitting lies at their face? I can keep going about your other affairs if you want." She ended with a look at me. Jean followed her lead, taking time to do his best critical assessment before someone talked again. I stared wide-eyed between the siblings, pretending like I didn't know their father's eye was on me.

"Eleanor!" Christelle shrieked. "That is ENOUGH!" Elle let out a frustrated noise and stormed out. "The gall of that girl to spew such lies. And in front of company no less!" Christelle cried as Enjolras sank onto the piano bench.

"But she wasn't, was she?" Jean asked solemnly, taking his gaze off of me and turning to his son.

"I'm a leader in the rebellion." Enjolras said softly, and Christelle made a fainting-like noise. "I'm in my last year at the university, earning a law degree. Eponine and her sister are renting out a spare room in the flat." So everything else is okay to come out the truth, but I'm still your best kept secret? We're still your best kept secret? I felt a little resentful. Even if he had said he was protecting me. I saw nothing I needed protection from. Expect maybe his father when he realizes I'm one of the Thenardiers.

Christelle clutched her heart. "My boy...what happened to you?"

"Hush, woman, he stopped drinking his mother's milk." Jean snapped. I frowned at the thought of a sixteen year old still taking his mother's milk. Ew. Ouch. It hurts my boobs just thinking about it. He wasn't speaking literally, of course, but still.

"I've seen what the slums are like and how the people live. Obviously France doesn't have our best interests at heart."

"Ah!" Christelle turned her face away from him.

His father was smiling, though. He let out a chuckle, "You know Lamarque?" Jean leaned forward, welcoming his son, I guess.

"I work for him." Enjolras nodded. "He's been a role model of sorts."

Jean laughed again. "Well how about that." He rubbed his hands together and patted his son's knee.

Elle stayed lost for most of the day, but I thought I caught a glimpse of her hiding in the stables when two maids under Sorrel went out walking with me. The guys stayed in the west wing for a while but then went down to locked room in the south wing and stayed until Ames fetched them for dinner. I had no idea what Christelle did. But I can tell you how royally pissed she was when we left that parlor. She didn't even speak at dinner. She sat there, like a prim and proper lady of society, and just cleared her throat when she was ready to leave the table. It was like the whole idea of Enjolras leading a rebel army was appalling. I mean, it's a bit comical to think that someone who's never shot a gun could possibly lead a bunch of boys off to battle, but I wouldn't say appalling. I tried getting the maids to talk to me about life before Enjolras took off, but they just grinned and shook their heads. They laughed when I assumed how things went. But stayed deadly quiet when I suggested that the family had been split physically and emotionally because of political differences. They giggled more than they were silent, though. It made me wish that Sorrel had taken the walk with me instead. But I had a feeling she was Christelle's favorite accessory.

I wasn't allowed to walk anywhere but the back garden, but even that took me from noon til supper time. Like the front garden, the back was overly large and harbored plenty of different species of plants. It was gorgeous, I wouldn't take that away, but it was a bit excessive at points. When I made a comment about how many gardeners they must have had, one of the maids giggled and said more. I said twenty! I bet the Durands could find a job for everyone in my slum neighborhood. I tell you, they must have staffed well over one hundred. Would Enjolras inherit all of this when his parents died? Good Lord. I'd marry him in a heartbeat if it meant restaffing this place with my people. They could all have the east and south wing. It'd be more than enough. Then Enjolras and I could have the north wing with our family; and Azelma could have the west wing with her family. What one family needed all these wings and servants? Mama always said who needed servants when you had children?

"If I throw a glove, will one of you go and fetch it?" I had asked as we walked the halls. "Or would both of you?"

They giggled.

"I could think of super cute dog names to call you unless, of course, you told me your names."

"Marie." The blonde pipped.

"Nette." The brunette followed.

Then they giggled.

"Alright, Marie and Nette, is there a room that has something interesting to look at?" They shared a devious look. "I mean, afterall, it's getting dark with the sun setting, way too cold for fragile old me...And for all you know, I could be pregnant or prone to getting sick. Right?"

They smiled at me.

"You know a room? Can you take me to it?"

The two giggle boxes took me to a room full of shatter glass and mirrors. Not on the ground but plastered to the wall. It was quite fascinating, actually. I asked them all sorts of questions about it, but the continued to giggle. By the time we were due to the south wing, I just sort of started ignoring their constant giggling. I knew they could talk, so I assumed giggling was their defense against telling something they ought not to be telling. Because I swear, some of the things they giggled at were not funny at all. How old are you? Giggle. How long have you worked here? Giggle. Was the room designed to be like this or did it just become this? Giggle, giggle, giggle! You couldn't take them seriously.

"I quite enjoyed our walks, ladies." I said at the end of the day. "Perhaps we can try talking instead of giggling next time?" They giggled as they curtsied and left me in the south wing parlor with Elle and Cade.

"Your Majesty." Cade bowed.

"Please, she's not royalty." Elle rolled her eyes.

"She is in my social circles."

"Oh," Elle smirked. "I forgot she was slum royalty before she found civilization. Go, the cook has the apples waiting for the horses." Cade unashamedly pinched Elle's butt before leaving. "An old friend." She muttered. "So, _my dear_, ready to go home yet?"

"Well, Eleanor, it'd surely be nice not to have to be Grantaire's lady love anymore. Or watch my tongue."

"We're almost through day one." Elle squeezed my arm with a grin as Grantaire and Enjolras walked in with more servants and one of the servants who trailed around with Ames.

"I'll show you where you're staying." The older servant mumbled just a step above incoherency. "The mistress of the house has requested to not allow sexes mix."

"What would mixed sexes make, Price?" Elle teased. He shot her a cold look. "Come now, man, do you really need to show us to our rooms? Can't you just tell mother and father you did? Are you really going to deny two young lovers the chance to cuddle with each other on such a cold winter's night?" She said, not indicating who the lovers were. "I know where mother puts guests, and I bet Enjolras still knows where his room is. And if he doesn't, I do."

Price studied her for a moment, "I can lie for a bottle of wine."

"Done. Tell Cade I sent you for a 1700s Merlot." Elle grinned.

Price considered it for a moment, "I'll see you all in the morning for breakfast." And then left with a bow.

"I hate having servants." Elle sank into the couch.

"Cade certainly likes being a servant." Grantaire sneered.

"Cade's a stable boy, not a servant." She bit.

"Cade's a snake." Enjolras grunted.

"Cade doesn't lie." Enjolras didn't reply. "Well, brother, do you know where your room is still." He nodded. "Good."

I laid nearly on the edge of Enjolras's bed with my back facing him. I hadn't said a word to him or anyone else since Price brought the boys in. Not that no had tried talking to me. Enjolras tried striking up conversations on the way up to the bedroom plenty of times, Grantaire asked about my walk, and Elle asked how dating Grantaire was. But I just couldn't find my voice. I'd spent all day trying to get answers from stupid maids, and the moment I could ask and get answers, I had nothing to say. I just wanted to go home. Hell, I'd even choose the Inn over this place. I couldn't spend all weekend in the presence of Jean Durand.

"I've been thinking..." Enjolras said after sometime. He scooted from his side of the bed over to mine. I couldn't even scooch away. "What about Avaric if it's a boy?" He asked, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me the rest of the way.

"Avaric?" I flopped over. "It sounds like a spoiled rich boy."

"Well, you know he will be spoiled and rich..."

I turned back away from him, "Not if his father gets himself killed in that bloody revolution." I rolled my eyes.

"Eponine..."

"Besides, I made a bet with Grantaire that we'd name the child after him."

"After Grantaire?" Enjolras pulled me onto my back and looked down on me. "Do you even know what his name is?" I shook my head. It had to be better than Avaric. "It's Reverend."

"Reverend?" I laughed. "You kidding with me." I laughed louder. Reverend Grantaire? That's what the 'R' on his pouch stood for? He had to be playing with me.

"I kid you not. His mother thought it would encourage him onto a pious path." Enjolras held a hand up. "You go in his room and address him as Reverend, and I guarantee you he will be in my room ready to kick my ass."

I smiled. "If that's so, maybe I should."

The same hand that was raised to tell me that Enjolras wasn't lying, the same hand that touched my abdomen this morning, was now lying on my abdomen again. I bit the inside of my cheek and rested my hands over Enjolras's one.

"Reverend." I repeated. "Well, now Avaric doesn't seem so bad." I turned my head over to face him. "What about the name Cade? I kind of like it. It's dark, sexy, and little mysterious."

Enjolras let out a short laugh, "No."

"Oh, come on!" I tugged on the fabric of his night shirt. "It's a strong, caring, personable name."

"No." He said again and grinned. "Who was that urchin who hurt you more than helped at Marius's party? Odette? How about Odette?"

"If want it." I laced our fingers together. "Who Marius fawns over doesn't matter anymore."

Enjolras looked down at our hands and a crooked smile spread over his face. "We're having a baby." He whispered. "A baby."

"Our baby."

"A baby who will be named Reverend if we don't win this bet." He laughed. "What is this bet? Please tell me you had a feeling you could win it."

I didn't answer him at first. I wasn't sure how he would handle it. Maybe he knew? Maybe that's what he meant by 'protecting you'. I might as well tell him. We were having a baby together, we'd need to get use to being honest with each other sooner or later. "Does your father have a scar?" I asked Enjolras.

"What do you mean?"

I brought his hand to my marked cheek, then down to my jugular, and finally back to my abdomen. "Does your father have a scar?"

Enjolras kissed the corner of my mouth, and I melted. "Elle said he had owed a wretched man named Thenardier some money when I first left home. But he didn't say anything today."

I kissed his lips, savoring their taste. Relishing the feeling. Collecting the memory.

"You think your father marked him?" Enjolras asked, his eyes flicking to my mark.

"I think I marked him."

The next morning Elle stared at Enjolras with the most curious expression as he continued to stare at his father's neck. He'd been like that since we sat down for the meal, not even eating. I'm just surprised that Elle was the first to notice it. Well, not really. Christelle was in her own little, pissy world. She acted like she wanted nothing to do with any of us. Jean had been reading some pamphlet, not too concerned with anything else. Grantaire was focused on his food. And the servants weren't allowed to say a thing even if they had noticed. Elle had been talking to her father about someone she had met in Rouen the other weekend. But she cut herself short when she realized he wasn't paying attention. She rolled her eyes and looked to Enjolras for support.

"Dad." Enjolras cleared his throat. Dad?

"Enjolras." I hissed under my breath.

"What is it, my boy?"

"When I was first in Paris, I had caught whispers that you were there." Enjolras stared. Christelle stopped fanning herself and snapped the instrument shut. "Were you?"

"Enjolras, surely you haven't been completely brainwashed by Parisian society to remember that your father has business clients in Paris. Don't you remember he was up there regularly?"

"In the slums?"

"Where did you get this idea?" Jean asked Enjolras but looked at me.

"It's not an idea, it was something I heard about. I'm just wondering if it was true." Jean put the pamphlet down. "So you had been?"

"I ventured down there more than a couple of times, asking around." He looked to his son. "It's hardly a crime, is it?"

"Depends." Enjolras shrugged.

I sighed deeply and quietly. I don't know why I thought he could keep his mouth shut. The conversation snagged Grantaire's interest, it was concerning the bet. Him not drinking made him catch on quick to things. I didn't like it so much.

"On what, son?"

"Who you asked." Enjolras responded, loosening his cravat.

Something in my stomach started rumbling. Making me sick. I don't know whether it was the food, the outplaying situation, or other things, but I was close to losing it. I clutched the arm on the chair, willing everything to stay calm. Elle's expression had not yet changed, she sent it to me, but ultimately stared at Enjolras. Everyone was either staring at Enjolras or his father. Even the servants were out of order and waited for something to happen. My heart was pulsing. I think I was sweating. But I was too afraid to check to see if I was. I was also afraid Jean would give something away from the looks he kept shooting me. Were they discrete? Or was I just expecting them so I figured everyone else saw them? I was sure he was the one.

"Down by the docks," Jean said. I tried taking deep breaths to calm myself down. "I was there mostly. One of my clients had told me that if you wanted information, that's where you go. I made three trips down there. One a week after you left, one seven weeks after, and the last one a year after."

I sat even more quietly than before. Doing math. I had never done math on such a rushed scale before. Seven years ago from this month would have put me at twelve? I hadn't been allowed out on raids with my father until spring came. But a year later, I'd have been thirteen...I closed my eyes and took a deep breath in. Okay, okay, it was okay.

"You didn't find anything?"

"I didn't look." He took a sip of his tea. "I had someone do it for me." Montparnasse. "A young fellow. No more than fifteen." The oldest hag would have recommend him. "He was given high regards by one of the dock whores."

"Urchin." Christelle scoffed. I sent her a secret glare. She made it sound so horrible.

"So you paid a boy to look for me for a year? How could you have been sure he would look for me and not just take the money and run?" Enjolras already knew the answer to that question.

"I only gave him half up front and...commission for his employer." Jean sounded a tad disgusted. Twenty five percent. "Commission was heavy, twenty five percent, but I was told they knew what they were doing."

"What happened after the year was up?"

"He told me he had gotten some information and to meet him at some dilapidated Inn down there." I stared down at my plate. Inn. Alley. Docks. "So I met him there, with the other half of the money. I figured he had some good information. It was absolutely ridiculous, though. He just told me that the docks and alleys were free of runaway rich boys. So I refused to give him the other half of the money."

"And that was it?" Grantaire frowned.

Jean stared hard at me before saying, "No." Christelle followed her husband's gaze.

"Darling, you're scaring the poor girl. Watch yourself or we'll never have company again." Christelle patted her husband's hand.

"Everything comes with a price, especially leaving." He looked back to Enjolras. "I had thought it was understood that if he didn't find you then he wouldn't get the rest of the money. Apparently he and his boss didn't know the rules of decent business practices." You wanted decent business practices in the slums?

"Did they beat you up?" I could tell by the urgency in Elle's voice that she hadn't heard this part before.

"No-"

"The bruises would have faded." I answered for him, forgetting myself. "Sorry," I muttered. "My mother told me horror stories." I added before covering my mouth and closing my eyes. I could feel the bile rising.

"What did the boss man do, daddy?"

"Ninny." I snapped my eyes open. Jean was staring at me. "He called for 'Ninny', and a girl, no older than the tracker boy, came running from behind the bar."

"Ninny?" Enjolras asked, stealing a glance in my direction.

Jean nodded and went on, "He asked her if she was ready to make her father proud." I bit my bottom lip. So badly. "She took something from her mother as two big, fat men knocked me about and into a hallway that led to an alley where two more men were waiting. I think they had planned for me not giving the other half." They plan for everything. "I tried calling for an authority, but they assured me that no one would hear my screams at the hour. The boss took his Ninny aside as the others..." Christelle's eyes were wide with horror as her husband recounted his beating. I don't know if she was horrified about the beating or about the topic of our breakfast conversation, though.

"Excuse me." Christelle made to leave but Jean told her to sit down. Elle squeezed her hand as she fluttered the fan alarmingly in front of her face to dry her tears.

"I was lying there on the ground in the alley, thinking that I was never going to see my family again. They were going to finish me off just because they couldn't find a simple sixteen year old boy. The tracker boy kicked my stomach and then reacher into my coat to fetch my money pouch as the others pinned me down. The boss held my head, and Ninny knelt on my chest." He started undoing his cravat.

"Daddy!" Elle gasped and turned from the sight of the grotesque mark.

"The poor dumb thing was going for my jugular, but obviously her mark was off. The boss beat her, then she took off running to God knows where." Jean rolled his eyes. "My old age has me forgetting things: Remind me what you used, Eponine."

"An old war knife." I muttered.

"Eponine!" Enjolras hissed.

_"Eponine!"_

I gasped loudly, clutching at whatever was nearest to me.

"Good God, girl, you'd think I was beating you." Grantaire rolled his eyes. "We can't sleep in the same room if we're both going to have night terrors."

"What time is it?" I asked, glancing around wildly.

"Time for you and Enjolras to work out some issues." Grantaire grinned at his quick comeback. "No, not really, but Elle just came by; and you're to be in her room in no more than fifteen minutes."

"Oh."

"Are you alright, kiddo?"

"Yeah, I'm bloody spectacular." I tried remembering when exactly I came down here. Oh. I grinned. "Did you get Enjolras good?"

Grantaire smiled deviously. "You just wait and see."

**To clear any confusion with the ending: It was a dream sequence. Everything after Eponine suggests going down to call Grantaire by his first name was a dream. **

**Tell me what you think!**

**Love you all!**

**Peace. Love. Summertime:)**


	13. Ninny

**Thank you so much for all the support! Love it!:)**

**I had to change something up, that's why it took so long:P Enjolras's father is a difficult character to write. But I have it now. :)**

**Disclaimer: If I owned something this awesome, I wouldn't be stuck in Ohio...**

Enjolras stared down at his plate as he stabbed, no, mutilated his eggs but didn't actually eat them. I knew he was well aware that everyone, including the aides, was staring at him. I figured that was why the once scrambled eggs had now turned to mush. Elle had this smirk plastered over her pretty face, because I had told her everything that had happened last night. Leaving out any indication that I was with child, since I was still unsure about her knowing. I mean, sure, some of her comments lead me to believe she was in the know, but until I knew she knew, she didn't know. Grantaire, who was seated far from Enjolras in case of a retaliation, watched his friend cautiously. The bags under his eyes signaled to lack of sleep, the sick look on his face told everyone he'd been without drinking for some time, but the look in his eyes told me he couldn't sleep even if he wanted to. Come to think of it, I can't remember the last time Grantaire had woken up from a good night's sleep. Jean sipped his coffee gingerly and bit into his own eggs every now and then, but he kept a firm gaze on Enjolras. Almost as if willing him to speak with his mind. Christelle just sat there horrified at the sight of her son. She opened her mouth to speak but no words ever came out. I can honestly say, this was better than any opera I could ever imagine.

The aides had a bet going to see who would be the first in the family to crack. And also who would be the first of the heads to figure out my genealogy. Elle's company was quite the chatty bunch. The entire time they got us ready for the day, all they did was gossip and giggle. For all the high society dreams Elle has, she seemed at home with her aides. She was laughing and chatting right along with them. But I'm sure if her friend from Rouen was around things would be completely different. Or would a warm bath and decent food hoodwink her, too? Anyway, The aide who fixed our hair put money on Christelle for both. She said the the woman had been slipping in health ever since Enjolras left (to which Elle had no comment), and that her mind wouldn't let her hold her tongue sometimes. The lotion lady said that Christelle would be the first to crack but thought Enjolras would spill my background. She said that he'd always been a narc since he started talking. The one who picked out our clothes (a male) also thought Christelle would crack, but he said it was because no woman was capable of bottling up that many emotions. To which the lotion lady bit that no one was. No one thought that Jean would crack, though. Everyone seemed to agree that he knew how to keep his cool in any situation, and that even if he did know my family, he'd never make a scene of it.

Enjolras was in the lead for both bets, though. The reasons ranged from narc to guilt to drunken slip. Elle swore to everyone that she wouldn't tip the scales as long as her aides found other business to do today. She had a bet, though. She said that Enjolras would crack because of all the stress piled on his plate, and that he would be the one to tell who I really was because of the shame he felt from hiding me in Grantaire's shadow. Her aides pondered it for a moment, but ultimately everyone stuck with their money on their own opinions. It would be interesting.

"I hope everything was acceptable to your needs, my guests." Jean tore his gaze away from his son and looked to Grantaire and me. "We try to keep the rooms as warm as possible, but a house with this many rooms gets hard to heat in the winter."

"I can't speak for my love, but I was quite comfortable." Grantaire said graciously. "I can't remember sleeping better in my life."

Jean frowned at Grantaire. Probably because of his appearance.

"Your furnishings are lovely. Some of the finest I've seen." I spoke lightly and carefully. In truth, I'd rather sleep on second rate furniture. I was so afraid of ruining things in the room. "I just don't understand why you need everything to be so expensive and expansive." I couldn't help myself!

"Excuse me?" Christelle snapped, and Jean looked on.

Elle kept her eyes glued to me as I cleared my throat to respond, "I just mean that you've spent so much money on furnishing your home with what I'm assuming are the most expensive fabrics and designs that money can buy; but half the rooms aren't used and the fabric just soils from overuse or underuse. It's not a very wise investment then, is it?" I shifted uncomfortably under their gazes.

"What would you expect us to do with our money? What we purchase makes who we are." Christelle sneered.

"Or who you are determines what you purchase." I disagreed.

"I beg your pardon for her." Elle laughed nervously. "She normally minds her tongue." She added with a look she must have picked up from her mother.

"Hush, child," Jean held his hand up. "I respect a woman who is not afraid to speak her mind."

"Bah!" Christelle threw her hands in the air. "A woman who speaks her mind is nothing more than an urchin."

"The irony of that comment." Jean bit and Enjolras looked up. One of their aides nudged the other, probably thinking he was going to spill something. But he kept quiet and only got attention from his father. "Please, son, keep your head down. Your eye makes me want to hurl."

Grantaire and I grinned. It was a rather nasty black eye. Who knew Grantaire could throw a punch that well!

"Ames, make sure the girl's aides bring her to my study for tea after their morning walk. If you don't mind, I'd be very interested in hearing your opinions. As a lady of Parisian society, I can't imagine you get to speak it often." Jean stood up, and Ames went off in search of the giggle bots. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have business to finish up. I'll see you at ten and the rest of you at lunch." He bowed and left.

Christelle drummed her fingers on the table, Elle sat biting her lip, and Enjolras stared at me. I kind of felt as if I had broken some unwritten rule around here. Cade stood behind Christelle, smirking with his arms crossed and rocking back and forth on his heels. Maybe I'd be the one to accidentally spill my heritage. My heart was pounding as I waited for someone to talk. I bet no one ever spoke the truth around Christelle. Cade whispered something to the aide next to him, and the boy hurried away with whatever task the stable boy had given him. Christelle spent a few more hot moments in her seat before taking off like lightning when Sorrel poked her head in. Cade wasn't too far behind her, leaving me with the other three and no aides.

"Purple really isn't your color, brother." Elle teased, clearly satisfied with the morning's events.

"Your aide wouldn't put powder on it." Enjolras mumbled.

"It's a good conversation starter."

"You can tell everyone you got into a fight with a guard." Grantaire offered. Enjolras glared at him. "I warned you what I'd do. I feel no remorse."

Enjolras rolled his eyes. "I hope you know what you've gotten yourself into." He hissed at me.

"Nothing I can't take care of by myself."

"You keep talking like that, and he'll figure out who you really are."

"I find it hard to believe he'd treat me any worse than you do." I barked, popping out of my seat.

"Oh please, I told you-"

"Protecting me, yeah, I got it." I spat. "I'll send out a distress call when there's someone I need protecting from."

"If your pride will let you."

"Coward says what?"

"Grow up!"

"Sod off!" I threw my breakfast roll at him and stormed out. Stupid bastard. Marie and Nette were waiting outside the doors for me.

I kicked the snow in my path viciously with my boots as we walked the path to the damned back gardens. Who did he think he was? Playing a constable? A doctor? A judge? I needed none of them at any point in my life. I went through life just fine without anyone's help, and I could make it the rest of the way just fine. Marie and Nette left the giggles back in the house and were panting in an attempt to match my strides. And the gall of him to be angry with me! Was he the one carrying a burden? Was he forced into lies? Was he the one left for dry by someone he loved? I stopped short of the back gardens. Not to give the aides a chance to catch up but to collect my own thoughts. I didn't love him, did I? Of course not. I was just caught up in this silly fantasy of mama's that deserving girls have a happy life and a happy ending. What kind of mother fills heads with silly hopes and dreams? Shouldn't she have better prepared Azelma and I for life if she'd treated us with the same cool brutality that father had? I sank into a crouch and touched the snow to assure myself I still had feeling and this wasn't a dream.

Christelle probably raised Elle on hopes and dreams and look how damaged Elle is. She fools around with boys and men who she could never marry. A schoolboy, a stable boy, and God knows who else. She talks of high society life, but she probably desires a simple life where she doesn't have to worry about fabrics and colors pleasing people. I bet she was more excited than her parents at Enjolras's reappearance. It'd mean she wasn't the heiress of their riches. She could find a way out of their high society prison. I thumped completely onto the ground. Did Christelle tell the same stories to Elle as mama preached to Azelma and me? Did she promise her daughter a prince? A castle? An everlasting love? Would I spew the same lies to my daughter? Or my son? Would I promise him riches, love, and immortalization? I wondered how many mothers promised they'd never lie to their children like that but ended up doing it in the end. I wondered if it was something maternal that made them do it or something pressed upon my society. Most of all, though, I wondered about what would become of my child after he or she had grown up from the lies. How would I be thought of?

I swatted away Marie and Nette's hands, "I'm fine you stupid girls." I snapped. "Go find a painting to giggle at." I added ruder than I had wanted. Oh well. It got them to leave.

The gardens were so full of life, even in spite of the bitter cold snow that decorated them. The snow almost added to their life. I'm sure they were packed full of it. Life. More and more as it got deeper and deeper to the heart of the garden. It looked formidable to me, though. Nothing good could come of so much life in one setting. I sighed and wrapped my arms around my abdomen. Maybe things would have been different if Marius had believed me. About everything; about something; about anything. I could have gone to school, too. If I had money, I could have majored in something. My clothes weren't a tell all. I could have work a potato sack, but what showed on the outside gave no indication to what was on the inside. Clothes were just a trick of the eye. Is that why Christelle and Jean cared so much about clothes? Did they like to be deceived? Did Christelle prefer to have her guests dumb and clothed elegantly because anyone smart and poorly clothed would make her feel inferior in her own home? Did Jean make a game of deciphering who was real and who only played a part? Did he see through me?

"Your bum will get wet if you sit there for too long." Cade's amused and condescending voice came from my right. I sent a side glance. "But your Majesty has probably had her clothes soiled by more grotesque liquids if I remember right." He squatted next to me.

"I noticed Price wasn't anywhere to be found this morning." I said dejectedly. "Is he soiled?"

Cade took a handful of snow and tossed it away from us. "Price found out what happens when you try taking something that belongs to me." He said. I'm sure if I had looked at him I would have seen the same dark look on his face that was laced in his words.

"Did Grantaire find out, too?"

"You threaten Grantaire with the bottom of his own bottle, he'll give fold like cards." Cade added softly: "Nothing I ever did ruined him, though."

"You think he's ruined?" I looked at the stable boy. He had this expression that I couldn't quite place. Sympathy? Guilt? Compassion? Whatever it was, I wasn't accustomed to it. "It's why he drinks." I stated and Cade pursed his lips. "And the night terrors."

"Still looking for that getaway?"

"Why would I run?" I stared back at the gardens. "I'm a Thenardier."

"And Enjolras is a Durand but still left for seven years." Cade stood up after glancing over his shoulder. "Tell you what: I'll be waiting with a horse at the gates once the master and mistress retire. Fifteen minutes after the aides drop you off, I'm leaving. Alright?"

I looked back at what caused his readiness to leave. Jean and Ames were on their way over, neither looking like they intended to stay out here long. Quickly I got to my feet wiping my rear.

"Alright." I told Cade as he greeted the master of the house.

"Good morning, Monsieur." Cade bowed slightly. "Are you here to retrieve the lady, or shall I fetch two horses ready for a morning ride?"

"No, my boy, that's quite alright. Ames and I just saw the two jittering maids and figured we better check on the young lady. We all know how flighty they can be in their responsibilities. Good thing you were here to look after her."

I followed behind Jean and in front of Ames as we walked back into the home. When we turned down the hallway I saw Cade still standing by the gardens, but he was talking to the same boy he had sent away from breakfast. I really was too far away, but I could have sworn I saw the the boy pull out an old war knife. My heart dropped into my stomach at the assumption, and I glanced about nervously. Honestly, I was half expected my father to jump out behind one of the pillars. I put my hand possessively over my abdomen. Maybe Cade wasn't so warm on me. Or maybe I was just letting my own paranoia get the better of me. This baby was making my emotions go haywire. I just needed to let my rationality wash back over me. My father had no business here. And mama would have sent word of warning out with someone.

"Oh, you've got to be kidding me." I rolled my eyes when I walked into his office. I really needed to work on keeping my mouth shut. Months of unorganizing Enjolras's things taught me every book back he owned, and I can honestly say that every book was probably in this office. The walls were lined with weapon designs and barricade formations. His desk was scattered with papers and writings of visionaries.

"You don't like my office?" Jean asked, offering me a seat.

"It's familiar." I muttered, picking up an essay and putting it back down. Locke.

"How much are you looking for, Ninny?" Jean asked as I trailed a finger down one of the books.

I turned towards him, "Excuse me? What did you call me?"

"Sit down or I'll have Ames bust your knee caps." I sat down. "Do you know how to kill a person over the course of a day, Ninny?" He asked as he loosened his cravat to reveal a scar just shy of his jugular.

"No I do not, nor do I have any desire to. I also would rather not be called Ninny. It sounds absurd." I bit.

"I paid a hefty amount to have Enjolras found after he had left. More than I'm willing to admit and more than my wife knows about."

"I'm sure any father would."

"The Thenardiers are a rough breed. Rotten to the core, the whole lot. Soulless. Faithless. Shameless." Jean folded his arms. "But of course, you'd know nothing about those Thenardiers, correct?"

"Is that what this is about? You think I'm one of your silly Thenardiers? No offense, I'd rather walk about with those giggling dotes than prove my worth to you."

"But my opinion is highly important to your future, isn't it?"

"Ames, open a window, all the dust is getting to your master's head."

"Like your father," Jean looked over some paper on his desk. "I have eyes all throughout Paris. Of course, not anywhere near the docks. That's his prized domain. But elsewhere. I know who you are." I stared at his scar as he was preoccupied with the paper. "I'm a very powerful man. I can have any evidence of your existence eradicated in merely a day."

Eradicated? Over what? Giving him a hideous scar that no one would ever see anyway because of modern fashion? Or for the sins of my father? Would he really hold a grudge against a young girl who saved his life from her lack of anatomical knowledge? No. But would he use a family member of the man who scorned him as some act of vengeance, revenge? I would. Is that Enjolras was referring to when he said he was protecting me? Surely, though, he had no clue his father was a raving lunatic. Or maybe he did? Maybe that's the real reason he fled from here? And all this political mumbo jumbo was a mask?

"Would you like some tea?" Jean asked out of the blue. So you can poison me? Absolutely not.

"Yes, please." I replied.

"I know you're Ninny." He said, sipping the tea Ames set in front of him. "You want to know how?" I didn't respond, so he continued. "I pride myself on spotting liars." And I pride myself on lying. "A different Thenardier. Grantaire. Rue Plummet." In my defense, only the Rue Plummet bit was my idea. Had I been properly prepared, he'd have been hoodwinked.

"Do you give these talks to Elle's suitors, too? It makes sense why she's yet to be married if you do." I snapped.

"Are you familiar with the name Jean Valjean?"

"Of course." I sighed. Who wasn't?

"He's something of a friend. We allowed him to board here once upon a time. He was looking to slip the law, and I was looking to stick it to the law." Jean smirked at a memory. "Anyway, we stay in contact from time to time. He's a very valuable man to keep in touch with; and should I ever get knocked on the head and decide to be in favor of the Parisian system, I hold the answer to a checkmate." He dug an envelope from his drawer and waved it in front of me. 55 Rue Plummet. Jean Valjean lived there. Of course he did.

"You would sell out your friend for societal benefits?"

Jean's face contorted, "You're a girl. You probably have hopes and dreams of starting your own family. Meeting an alley boy, settling down, and starting a family with him?" At least I had one good lie on him. "That is, if you make it out this weekend." I frowned. That was a threat. "Ten years and you'll understand."

"Are you suggesting that I'll be a spineless oaf in ten years?"

"Are you suggesting that I am a spineless oaf?"

I stared at him. "I rather like your conviction." He said as he beckoned Ames away. I didn't dare watch as Ames, left just in case I missed something on Jean's face. But I heard the door shut behind the aide and lock with a faint _click_. Jean's face was dead. No emotion. Then happiness. "He's a funny man, Ames. He's been my assistant, aide, and friend since I was just a teenager. He followed me to Paris when my parents died. And he's a genuinely good man." He shook his head.

I hadn't moved since he threatened the safety of my ability to walk. The tea that I had been given had gone completely cold by the time Jean was finished telling me about Ames. I wasn't sure completely what was going on. He would diverge from anything related to the lies we've been feeding the Durands; but at any given moment he would come back, make a horrible threat like offering to keep my conscious as he showed me the Durand mark or have Ames practice the horrendous things he learned from law ridden travelers. Yes, I was more terrified than I think I had ever been. My father could give me all the brutal beatings he wanted, but I knew he'd never kill me. Ever. Being a Thenardier, though, I had planned five escape plans the moment I walked into this room. Not trusting people always had perks like easy getaway plans.

"What threw me off, though..." His voice trailed off after he did another sudden topic switch. He was staring hard at me again. I returned the stare, thankful that Enjolras had his mother's eyes. I don't know what I would have done if I had felt like I was staring right at his son instead of this nut case. "Was yours." He touched his scar while looking at mine.

"It's a birthmark." I threw out but knew my tone was nowhere near convincing.

Jean laughed heartily. I would have been thrown off by it, but come on, look who we were talking about. "I kept thinking, there's no way that man would have done that to his own Ninny. But then again..." His voice trailed off again as he lost himself in thought. "He beat her right in front of me." Jean sneered, shaking his head. "I watched the bruises form, the shoulder dislocate, and the blood run. And for what? Being a-"

A knock on the door stopped him in mid sentence. He quickly did up his cravat as he stood to answer the door. "Ames." He said, signaling for the man to open the door. I blinked rapidly, composing myself best I could in such a short amount of time after such a mountain of emotions broke free.

"Master." I heard Cade greet Jean as the door opened. I let out a silent breath of relief. There was a God in Heaven, and I had a feeling he was watching out for this baby. "I'm sorry to interrupt your meeting, but your company is here and the mistress is requesting you and our guest to join the rest for lunch."

"Oh, dear me!" Jean chuckled. "We were having such an animated conversation that I lost track of him. Eponine, sweet child, why don't you give your tea to Ames, and Cade will accompany you to the dining room." I stood stiffly and handed my cup to the waiting Ames. His back was to his master, so when he took my cup he gave my fingers a light squeeze. Whether out of sympathy or warning, I didn't know. I couldn't bring myself to look him in the eyes.

"You okay?" Cade asked quietly after we turned the corner.

"Frazzled." I answered a few moments later. I couldn't think of the right word. Relieved. Gracious. Nervous. Intrigued. Shooken up.

"Are you going to tell anyone?"

"Does this happen with the guys Elle brings back? Is that why you're familiar with a getaway strategy?"

"Every single one." Cade muttered. "So I'll be seeing you there too?"

"No." I shook my head. "No." I repeated firmly when we were paces from the dining room. I could see Elle seated in her normal spot with Enjolras next to her. Both were looking in the direction their mother would be seated.

"No?"

"It's what he wants, right?" I asked. "He wants me to back down and go running just like everyone else. But I'm not like everyone else. I'm not easily swayed or threatened." I nodded. "I'm a Thenardier."

I couldn't keep the frown off of my face when I saw Jean's company. There was a certain stench in the room, and I'd bet my life that it was coming from them. He was dressed in this ridiculously wanton outfit. It was a cluster off colors and fabrics. I could only imagine what was going through Christelle's mind when she greeted them in the front room. She probably died inside. His wife was dressed no better than him. Her dress was a mess of pinks and purples, ruffles and lace; and her breasts threatened to spill out of their constricted binding. I stared at them as Cade seated me down and across the table from them at my normal spot next to my "lover". Grantaire sent me a side glance, but went back to staring at the couple as everyone else. They were poorly dressed. They were poorly bathed. They were poorly mannered.

They were my parents.

"Monsieur and Madame Thenardier," Christelle cleared her throat. "Oddly enough, this young lady shares the same surname. Mademoiselle Thenardier. She's Monsieur Grantaire's lady friend."

My father cocked his head and looked at me with extreme interest.

"Ah, Monsieur and Madame." Jean smiled as he walked in. "I do hope you'll forgive my tardiness? The you miss and I had gotten into such a great discussion, I had lost all track of time. My dear?" Christelle waved off the tardiness as Enjolras caught my eye. I shook my head discretely.

"It's funny, my friend, I wasn't aware that there were any other Thenardiers in Paris."

"Well, now you are." Jean repeated my words.

Mama was watching me like a hawk. But there was something in her eyes...she knew. She bore me; she nursed me; she raised me; and she knew me like the back of her hand. She knew. And I do mean _knew._ I held her stare for a bit, most likely confirming her suspicions. Well, not really suspicions. It wasn't a suspicion if she knew. Oh, how I wanted to tell her. The moment she gave me that look, all I wanted to do was tell her everything. It was that little girl child inside of me, the figurative one of course, that wanted to tell my mama any good news that ever happens. The same one who wants to cry to mama when something is hurting her or tearing her emotions to shreds. Nevertheless, it's all I wanted to do. She was my mama after all.

As for Enjolras's mother: She sat deathly still all through the meal. Really, only the two lunatics conversed. As if they were old university buddies. Elle kept looking at Cade, watching his reacting carefully. I think once Enjolras looked at Grantaire, but other than that his gaze was trained on my father the entire time. Not even flinching. I knew my father was well aware of the rebel's stare, but he made no action that suggested he cared. All of the aides were on their tip toes. Seriously. This was leading up to the moment their bank accounts had been waiting for. I knew they were all trying to calculate who would snap with this new change of events. They probably thought Enjolras would bite his word vomit back, and they were probably right.

"So you two crazy kids are in love?" My father asked Grantaire after a swig of wine.

Grantaire grinned like an idiot and looked at me. "I don't even think love can quite describe how I feel or what we have." You got that right. "Something more?" He added squinting at me then turning his attention away to my father.

"Something more than love?" My father looked around the table. "You'll have to humor me, but I'm not quite sure I know what you mean."

"It's not really capable of being described, is it?" Enjolras spoke up. "It's the feeling you get when you know she's the first person you see in the morning and the last you see at night. The feeling you get when you realize your life is an organized mess because of her. The feeling you get when she glares at you, and all you want to do is hold her. The feeling you get when you look at her and see your future. The feeling you get just being in her company. That feeling. There isn't a word for it, because God doesn't have one. Why let man ruin something so pure and beautiful and sublime with a label?"

I melted.

I know, I know. I know I've said that before, but I really truly meant it this time. God, did I mean it.

"That's very insightful." Jean said, causing Enjolras to take his eyes off of mine.

"I read a lot." He said dejectedly.

I should have kissed him. To hell with this charade. I should have kissed him.

"Well, if you'll excuse the good Monsieur and me, we have business matters to tend to. We'll be in my office shall you need us." Jean and my father rose. My father kept a keen eye on me. "Until tonight." Jean bowed and lead my father and Ames out of the room.

I knelt on the bathroom floor, tossing all the contents into my stomach as Grantaire held my hair back and rubbed my back. I ran like hell once Christelle lead mama away to her parlor for music and chats.

"Come on, kid," He soothed. "What've you got to fear? You're doing everything he's asked you to. He knows this thing between us is a load. The only thing you've got to worry about is that little baby Reverend inside you."

"It's not my father I'm worried about." I retorted.

"Hey, don't snap at me." The drunk warned. "I'm on your side. We just got to make it through three more meals, and then we're on our way back to Paris. Safe and sound." He rubbed my arm as we sat against the wall. "Come in." He added after a tap on the door.

"Give us a minute?"

"I don't take kindly to others making loving remarks about my lady, Enjolras." Grantaire teased as we stood up. "If anyone's going to talk about a stronger connection than love, then it's got to be me. We're pretty serious, 'Ponine and I." He pointed at me and then himself. "I can't have you coming in and ruining what we've got, my friend. I'll fight you?"

"Get out of here, Grantaire." Enjolras snapped.

"Touchy, touchy." He wiggled his fingers and then snapped them. "None of that either. No touchy, touchy. No hanky panky. Actions speak-"

"Grantaire!" Enjolras bit.

The drunk rolled his eyes but left, shutting the door behind him.

"What were you thinking?"

"What was _I _thinking?" I barked. "This was all your idea! If you could have just handled the news like a man then we'd never be in this mess!"

"I was scared!"

"And you think I'm a ruffles and rainbows about it?" I scoffed. "I'm the one who has to carry it around. I'm the one who's been forced to lie about it, forced to pretend like it's not feeding off of my nutrients. I'm the one who's been given the cold shoulder. Had to rethink my whole future because you've been so detached about everything! Where do I go? Who do I have? What can I do? This puts no mark on your reputation. Just another notch in your bedpost."

Enjolras laughed. "A notch in my bedpost?" He cackled.

"You know what I mean."

He scratched his head.

"Stop." I hissed when he wrapped his arms around me. "Enjolras!" I added urgently, thrashing a bit when his grip tightened.

I was scared of raising a child. I was scared of the act of bringing a child into this world. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to provide for this child. I was afraid of being a bad mother. I was afraid of it not having a child. I was afraid that my child would know my past. I was afraid my child would think of me how I think of my mother: weak. I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to give my child the family he or she deserved to have. I was afraid of dying in childbirth. I was afraid of leaving the child alone. In a sense, I was afraid of the child. But most of all, I was afraid of losing Enjolras because of the child. You hear about it all the time in the slums. A girl getting pregnant and the father fleeing. How would I be able to explain that to my child? I inhaled a sharp breath into Enjolras's chest as the tears kept pouring down. How would I tell my child that his or her father didn't want the responsibility? Would they blame me? I would blame me. Why didn't you try to make him stay? I did everything I could think of. Why couldn't you think of more? I tried. Why didn't you try harder?

"We're going to be okay." He kissed the top of my head.

We weren't alone, though, right? Me and my baby. Enjolras was here. Right? He loved me. Right? No. It was more than love. It was pure and beautiful and sublime. Right?

Yes.

**Soooo?**

**Just so you know, Jean and Thenardier are NOT friends. They are business partners who are trying to cheat the other. I'm not going to address it, Eponine just sort of assumes it after seeing them parted then together. **


	14. Bella

**I know, I know, this is super short. But it's kind of a filler; and I really wanted to get something out because I'm working on a new story for Wicked. So I really want to pour my energy into it. Which brings me to...**

**To Hedwig466 (and anyone else who might have been wondering)- I am a Wicked fan:) Very much so!**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I own my sarcastic thoughts and cynical opinions on things.**

"Bella?"

"Absolutely not."

"Why not?"

"I don't like the sound of it."

"It means beautiful."

I let out a frustrated sigh. "I know a nutcase named Bella."

"But that doesn't mean our baby would turn into a nutcase."

"No, Enjolras." I snapped. "I can just picture the name Bella for her. She'll be some insecure, anti-social outcast who has deluded ideas of romance, thinking that she's being loved and cared for; but in reality she's being alarmingly obsessed over and stalked."

"That is ridiculous!"

"Can you imagine the grandchildren she'd give us?" I shuddered.

"I'm sure they'd be cute as a button."

"And promote pedophilia."

"Your imagination is wild."

I shrugged, "Let's say it came to me in a dream."

Enjolras exhaled loudly, crossing out the name Bella. We hadn't found a name we agreed on since we started this painstaking task of choosing a baby name. Avaric didn't seem as bad as some of the other names Enjolras threw out, but I was certain I was carrying a girl. If I had a girl, there'd be no way of accidentally naming her Reverend. If it was a boy, though, I suppose Avaric did have a certain charm to it. But that name was on the back burner, maybe even forgotten by Enjolras, as a vast array of names were thrown up, shot down, or reluctantly considered. I won't even bother to repeat some of the names he thought were acceptable. I couldn't say what had been going through his mind when he had offered them, but I can tell you what was going through mine the second my mind processed each name. Hell no. I'd rather name the baby after one of our parents.

Speaking of parents, the two of us stopped talking at the sound of an obnoxious noise coming from the hallway. I frowned at him and walked to my door, with him following and leaning behind it as I peeked out into the hall. It was clear, but the door kiddie corner from mine was open and a shoe had been left in the threshold. I pulled Enjolras out of the room with me and went to see what was going on. The obnoxious noise sounded again. This time, without the door muffling the sound, it sound more like a laugh than whatever I had thought earlier. Enjolras lead me toward the room as the sound registered familiar. Our fingers still laced together, he peered into the room. He hesitated for a moment at the sight of the back of Christelle's head, but I ended up taking my hand back so he wouldn't have to make the decision. I returned the sympathetic smile he sent me. As much as I hated being a lie, I understood his nerves.

"Mum?" He announced his presence. It was the first time I heard him so informal with her.

Christelle glanced over her shoulder at us. I caught sight of a Grantaire sized flask in her delicate hands. "Oh, hello, my baby."

Enjolras sat in front of her, she cocked her head and I imagined a sweet smile gracing her face. I stood back uncertainly as Enjolras took his mother's hands and kissed the top of one gently. She cooed and cupped his face.

"My sweet boy." She sounded on the verge of tears. "My sweet man." Christelle's curls shook as she corrected herself. "My sweet boy has grown up into such a sweet man. Doing anything for the ones he loves." Enjolras glanced nervously at me. "You're a smart boy, considering what could happen before even getting here. I told Sorrel that we'd raised a prince." She stroked his cheek with her thumb.

"How about I have Sorrel fetch you some tea?" Enjolras asked.

I glanced to my left, noticing the old maid for the first time. She stood solemnly, her expression empathetic and her posture defensive. Of her mistress, no doubt.

"Oh, no." Christelle tsked. "Eponine, my dear," She threw over her shoulder. "Come sit with us. Don't be shy." She scooted over to make room. Enjolras looked warily at me, and Christelle waved her hand dismissively. "You're insulting me if you think I'm daft." She added nonchalantly, but I could hear the cool edge laced in her words.

So I gave in as Sorrel curtsied before leaving the room to stand in the hall.

"I'm not incapable of deciphering emotions, you know." She smoothed out my dress. "In fact, just after you walked in for lunch I could tell how Madame Thenardier swelled with pride. Not exactly the same swelling I can find on you, though. That silly stableboy has been in awe ever since you arrived. Eleanor's been indifferent. And my baby boy..." Her voice trailed off, and I saw her sanity coming back to her. Her voice certainly reflected it. "You will find, Mademoiselle Thenardier, that although family and origin matter to my husband, individuals and society matter to me."

"Mum..."

"Madame Thenardier had picked up the greatest gossip on her way through Paris. We had such a good conversation on generics and generations. Did I ever tell you that Enjolras was almost named Avaric? No, I don't recall doing so. I read it in a book before I met Jean and then read it to Enjolras every night after he was born. The name eludes me."

My heart slowed to a near stop.

The mistress stood up and looked towards her aide, "Sorrel, I fancy a walk in the front gardens. What say you?"

Enjolras watched his mother walk away before commenting, "And that is the last you will hear on the matter."

Was that acceptance? I stared at Christelle's empty seat and then to the flask she had left on the table. I felt my heart strings tug against one another, making my stomach nervous from their actions. Did that just happen? Accepted? This baby was getting me all worked up over a flighty conversation. I cleared my throat and blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill.

"The more I hear that name, the more endearing I find it." I said, kissing Enjolras and taking the flask. "I'll see you at dinner, Grantaire and I are going to see if we can get the giggle girls to speak more than one word."

"Bella?" Grantaire frowned as I recounted the past hour to him. I nodded as we thumbed through the wine in a room off the kitchen. "Sounds like parasitic brat."

"A nutcase!" I agreed.

"But the thing with..." He stopped talking, catching sight behind me. "Monsieur." He bowed to my father out of respect and fear.

"Monsieur." Father bowed back. "You wouldn't mind giving me some time with the girl, would you?"

My heart sped up and it took severe will power not to clutch at my abdomen. I could picture my father tossing me about in this room after Grantaire shut the door. Bottles bursting, blood spilling, and the horrible man laughing and seething. I feared more for my baby than any of these wines that Grantaire said were worth more money than the estate itself. I took a subconscious step back, towards the corner and away from my father. The stupid drunk enthusiastically appeased my father, giving my hand a squeeze before leaving me. I stared after him as he stopped once to snatch a bottle up and under his clothes then completely disappearing behind the thick door that separated me from a safe haven. In no universe would I have been prepared for what happened next.

"My ninny!" My father exclaimed, engulfing me in a hug and spinning me around. "My girl." He held my face in his sausages, and I swore my eyes were as round as moons. "I always knew I could count on you." He gave me dry kisses on each cheek.

I wriggled free of his grasp, grabbing at the wine rack to steady myself. What in hell! I looked around frantically. Was I being pranked? Did someone find this funny? Apparently my father did. He let out an alien laugh. I'd never heard that laugh from him in my life. He was happy? Giddy? It had been a deep and meaningful laugh that threatened to be confections.

"What is wrong with you?" I bit less harsh than I intended.

"My baby girl." He smiled wide and patted my cheek. "Do you know where we're at?" I nodded. Obviously. "Do you know how much these crooks are worth?" I shifted uncomfortably. "There's a safe somewhere in this place." Father knocked on some of the floor boards before finding one ten feet from me. He pulled up the board and out a piece of rolled paper."

"I see you're familiar with the layout." I muttered bitterly.

"I don't care how much they pay their workers, there's always one rat in a bunch." My father said to me but looked at the paper in his hands. "I was here two years ago, and this is what was in their safe." He passed me a list. Jewels were the popular product. "This is what it amounts to." He handed me a small slip of paper. I wasn't even going to...I couldn't...I wondered and hoped..."You get me into that safe...you and your sister are safe. Done. Out of the family business." My father wrote what he said on a slip of paper, signed it, tore it off, and handed it to me. "Think about it. I'll be in the stables until dinner."

**Like I said, it's short. But just to hold you over!**

**I wouldn't have written about it if it wasn't going to happen, so the safe will be broken into...but who do you think is going to be the brains behind the operation? Get Thenardier from point A to B?****  
><strong>

**Let me know in a review;)**


	15. Treasure

**Hi! Thank you for being so patient and for all your support! It means SO much:D **

**So...this chapter doesn't have much comedy in it. I guess you could say that there's some dark humor towards the end. But other than that...it's pretty heavy, I think. **

**Disclaimer: I truly wish I owned this masterpiece, but I don't.**

"Where were you?" Grantaire asked as he and Enjolras stood in the west wing parlor. "We saw your father coming back from the stables, and he said that he hadn't seen you since after lunch."

I flushed, "I was just on a walk." I lied. "The baby has me incapable of staying in one place for too long."

"Is he okay?" Enjolras grabbed my arm and put a hand on my abdomen.

"_She's _fine."

"Oh, yay." Grantaire groaned. "Gender arguments have already started. Only what? Seven more months of this?"

"We can always move out." Enjolras offered. Grantaire heard 'move out', but I heard 'we'. "It might take two trips with all that alcohol that I bought with my money." He added.

Grantaire laughed and snapped his fingers, "You, mon ami, have a dangerous mind." He said as Cade made his appearance known. Grantaire's smile faltered, and Enjolras straight up glared the stableboy down.

"Your Highness," Cade bowed to me. "I see you have a knack for keeping company with jesters. Each to her own, I suppose, right?" I couldn't help but grin. "Forgive me, good sirs, I had no intention of coming in here and teasing you." He shook his head and rolled up his sleeves. "Old habits die hard. Actually, I came to check on Eponine. Have you recovered well enough?" He plopped down on the sofa.

"Recovered?" Enjolras looked at me.

"Oh," Cade gave a cackled. "I hadn't realized you didn't tell him yet. And believe me, it was not my intention to pit you two against each other either. I need to stay in the good graces of at least one Thenardier."

"Cade, what in God's name are you going on about?" Enjolras snapped.

Cade sighed and withdrew my father's old war knife from his pocket and tossed it to me. I _had _seen it! I clutched it tight in my hands, memories of each use flooding back to me. Was it horrible that I relished the feeling I had at some of those? The adrenaline rush and feeling of security I had while using it? I rolled my shoulders. How he had gotten it from my father was a miracle. This thing meant more to my father than any of his family or material possessions in the Inn. I'd even go as far to say that the knife meant more to him than money. Money showed what he could buy, but the knife showed what he could do. What he was capable of. Aside from the marks he left, his knife was an everlasting symbol of the Thenardier influence and power. And now it and all that was associated with it, belonged to me. It was a little unnerving; but I guess that the knife is what you do with it. So, for me, it could be a constant reminder of the past I was overcoming.

"Just in case." Cade shrugged.

"In case what?"

"I'm protecting you." Cade responded to Enjolras with a quick tongue. Enjolras's lips became a dangerously thin line. "If master of the house ends up carved or dead, you'll be the first to be blamed. You can't hide the truth forever, master." He said master with light sarcasm.

"Your talk with my father..." Enjolras pieced it together.

"I'm fine, Enjolras." I squeezed his hand. "I've been dealt far worse, and I was perfectly fine then."

"What happened?" Enjolras asked Cade.

"I'm right here!" I barked. "I'm capable of taking care of myself and answering questions about myself."

Both boys glanced at me before returning their attention to one another. I rolled my eyes and frowned at the drunk next to me. His shrugged one shoulder and patted my back lightly.

"I offered her the getaway, but she's pretty set on staying here."

"She didn't take it?"

"She's too proud to back out. I mean, she's a Thenardier."

Enjolras snorted.

"At least with her father here, the master won't be so set on her. He's going to want to focus on him." Cade nodded. "Do you think she'll try and make a scene or something to prove herself." I didn't need to make a scene to prove myself. The truth works just as well.

I huffed and gave each of them a good shove. "She _is _staying here. She does not need protected from either of you clowns. She is proud. She is a Thenardier. She will not make a scene. And she will not stand by while you two idiots talk about her in third person." I gave them another shove. "I can't believe I associate with either of you." I added rudely.

"Oh, Eponine," Elle walked in. I took in her appearance. Her eyes were cold and her expression smug. "I thought we talked about that tongue of yours. If you can't watch it for the next day, I'm going to be forced to rip it out."

"That's not very lady-like either." I retorted.

She grinned. "Touche." Grantaire watched Elle intently as she looked over the wine sitting on the table in front of the sofa. "This looks absolutely delectable. Wouldn't you say, darling?" Was she talking to Cade or Grantaire?

Either way, Grantaire was the first to respond. "You seem unusually chipper."

Elle pursed her lips at his tone, "Is it so wrong for me to enjoy this sudden fresh air I'm feeling?" She sent me a look that would have had me hiding behind Enjolras had I not been me. It transitioned into a tight smile, though. "Daddy's had dinner set out early. We're all required." She curtsied. "Cade, escort me."

Doing what any strong-willed woman would do in a situation where her lover talks about her as if she isn't standing a few paces away, I ignored Enjolras's offer to escort me to dinner and turned my nose up. Call it childish, call it rude; but I'll call it due. It was going to be a long duration if he thought I would be okay with that kind of talk. I'd gotten it plenty of times from my father, and I would not have it with the father of my child. It was ridiculous. You do not treat people like that. There. That's something he can take back and teach his followers, if you treat people like they aren't there, then they won't be there to follow. Simple. Treat others how you want to be treated. You want to be ignored? Ignore. You want to be respected? Respect. Honestly, I always wondered how he expected to lead people with his mindset.

Once we turned into the hall the dining room was on, though, I fell in step with Grantaire and allowed him to be a gentleman for the sake of the show. Enjolras made some noise that made me want to turn around and do something that's frowned upon in most cultures, but I kept my actions to myself. I was ignoring him. Everyone was already seated in the dining room. Christelle seemed to have gained her sanity back, back she kept shooting a sharp eye around the table. Elle's smug expression had yet to settle, and it matched her father's to a t. The whole atmosphere was unnerving, to say the least. I can't remember a time when I was so nervous to eat. Let alone sit down. But I managed to without appearing to notice the air and the weight it carried. Call it a skill. I did refuse to look at my father, though. After what I'd done, I couldn't bare to see whatever emotion was dancing in those cruel eyes of his. I wouldn't be able to keep calm if I did.

"You want to know why I married Christelle?" Jean asked nonchalantly when we were half way through the first course. Everyone glanced up at him, more so from the interruption than from curiosity.

"Wasn't it arranged?" Enjolras asked bitterly.

Jean pointed his finger at his son in recognition. "Let me rephrase myself: Do you want to know why I fell in love with Christelle?"

"Jean, this is hardly-"

"Silence." He snapped. Christelle shrunk back, but Jean took her hand and a silly look washed over her. I knew the look. I made it too many times in the company of Enjolras. "It was one of the first times we had ever met before the big day. It was at this grand party my parents were throwing, and of course, Christelle and her parents were the honored guests." The two smiled at the shared memory.

I glanced at Enjolras. Would we be doing this someday? Obviously not with the undeniable tension hanging about the room. But the storytelling. Would we be sitting down to dinner with our children someday and recounting stories of how we had fallen in love? I bit back a smile. I suppose I could get use to the idea of something like that. You know, growing old together with the man across from me. It wasn't so horrible.

"My parents had insisted that I dance with Christelle as often as possible. We had shared one dance earlier in the evening, but after that she avoided me like her life depended on it. Then after I was done dancing with a very scandalous older woman, I was once again urged to find Christelle. But she was no where to be seen. Lost in a sea of high society women and girls."

"It's very easy to escape when you're not the most important lady in the room." Christelle told us.

"And very easy to be found when you are." Jean winked at his wife. They had me fooled for a moment. I almost thought the couple was normal. Then I remembered, though, that both of them were bat shit crazy in their own way. "She was no where to be seen in the ballroom, so I got tired of looking and ventured out to the gardens - we only had one set when I was a boy - to escape from everything. I love the parties and the mingling, don't get me wrong, but chasing after a lady who clearly didn't want me was tiring work." Christelle smirked. "So there I am, out in the gardens, and I hear these laughs coming from the edge of the gardens where our pond was. And who else was there but my future wife and the servant girl."

Christelle shared a blush with Sorrel. So they'd been friends longer than Christelle and Jean? It explained their loyalty to one another.

"Now, you have to understand, as a man of society, never in my life had I seen a high society woman conversing with the help unless it was to critique their performance." All of his aides in the room glanced about. I bet the concept was foreign to them in this place. "So you can imagine how shocked I was to see Christelle trading clothes with the servant girl." He chuckled. "I was dumbstruck! Christelle caught me staring and snapped at me, asking if I was just going to stand there gawking or help the servant lace up the dress."

"Why were you trading dresses with someone so...poor?" Elle frowned. Sorrel and I sent her matching glares.

"That's exactly what I asked." Jean laughed. "And she turns to me and says: 'You better get use to this, buddy. Do you know how many inches I lose from my waist when I put those damned dresses on? Do you know how many breaths I have to give up for the sake of fashion? Do you know how many times I've lost consciousness because I was forced into those damn things while 'the more tight, the more right' was repeated over and over? So excuse me if I'd like to take one hour out of this God forsaken ball to be able to breath'."

"I also threw in a couple of very unladylike words."

"Several."

"A few."

"At least ten." Jean smirked and Christelle rolled her eyes. "Regardless, I fell in love with her then."

"Because she was rude to you?" Elle sneered at her parents.

"Because she had a backbone and wasn't afraid to show it." Jean corrected her. "She was fiery, proud, sweet and gentle, rude and stubborn, and in that moment I realized she was all I wanted."

Grantaire, Christelle, and my mother all had the same dreamy look on their face. I scoffed internally. Dreamers.

"That was all very pleasant, my old friend, but what has brought upon this trip down memory lane?" My father cackled. No one missed the sharp glint in Jean's eyes as he snapped his attention to the king of the slums. And just like that, the atmosphere thickened.

"I always hoped that once day, when I had a son of my own, that he would meet someone who was full of the same conviction that my wife is full of. A mind of her own; unafraid to tell it like it is; graceful and poised yet sharp and witty; a determination to do what's right for the future of her family rather than add to the weight of the past. Someone who is a treasure. And I hoped that he would keep his treasure close to him; so that no slimy, good for nothing, crook would steal his treasure from him." My heart sped up as I caught as glance from my father. I kept my face even, though, hoping that no outward sign gave a hint to my inner turmoil.

"Surely if his treasure is used and abused for his own nefarious agenda, then his treasure deserves to be stolen."

"Who is to judge how nefarious his agenda is? If nefarious at all." Jean challenged my father. "Would it not be more nefarious for his treasure to be stolen away from him?"

"Would it not be more noble for the treasure to be in the hands of an honest man at the cost of stealing that in the hands of a crook who is accustomed to abusing his share?"

Jean stiffened up. "Assuming the treasure is beaten, I suppose it would be better; but no matter his agenda, I know my son would never abuse his treasure."

"I have no agenda." Enjolras bit. "And if I did, I can assure you, it would be many things but hardly could be described nefarious."

Our fathers looked over at Enjolras as he pulled them from their obviously ambiguous discussion. I stole a glance away from the men and around the table. And there it was. I stared at Elle. There it was.

If you think for one minute that I sold any information out to my father, then you are sorely mistaken. Azelma and I were out of the family business. We'd been out long enough to be known as residents of the complex rather than visitors. We had enough money to flee to any part of Europe. We were out. Safe. And the only thing that kept me from turning my father's sorry ass into the authorities was my mother. What would she do if he was locked up? She was strong enough, but I knew she wasn't strong enough to keep the Inn up and running while paying for every mistake my father made. The sins of the father don't always fall onto the son.

Jean commanded the room's attention again, "Turn out your pockets." He said solemnly

"Jean!" Christelle tried putting a stop to her husband.

"Turn out your pockets." Jean repeated, each syllable more menacing than the first.

I watched Elle through the entire thing. Her smug look was starting to vanish, and her usual demeanor of cool, calm, and collected was poisoned with fear. It was faint, barely there in her expression, but I'd grown to understand it over the past few weeks. She was afraid. Of what? My father reclaimed my attention, momentarily ignoring Elle, I kept my eyes glued to my father as he stood up. If he'd gotten into the safe, he wouldn't be stupid enough to stuff the evidence in his pockets, would he?

"Not you." Jean snapped. "Eleanor."

"Jean!" Christelle slammed her fists on the table. I don't know if anyone didn't jump at her sudden outburst. "This is enough! Whatever issues you have with Monsieur Thenardier, do not drag our daughter into the fight! Take it outside." Her voice was firm and unwavering, but Jean silenced her with one look.

"Every last jewel in our safe is gone, Christelle." He said coolly, his gaze focused on his daughter. "There's only one other person who knows where it is." Then to my father. "And only one person who knows how to break it."

"Jean..."

"Turn out your pockets, Eleanor."

With her cool indifference and smug look coming back, Elle stood. Sorrel watched over her as Elle dipped into every nook and cranny of her dress where jewels could be held. Nothing. Elle produced absolutely nothing. Sorrel confirmed it. This was by far the most interesting dinner I've ever been to. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jean look at me and then my father copied. Fantastic. My heart was pounding now, and I knew that my face was starting to flush. He was going to kill me. I wouldn't be alive to reach my next birthday. Under the table, I grabbed Grantaire's hand and help it tight. Elle told my father where to find the safe. Elle. Why?

"Are you satisfied?" Christelle hissed. "You probably moved them and forgot all about it."

"I didn't move them, Christelle." He spat and stared at me. "My source wouldn't lie."

The rest of dinner went by painfully slow. I was on the verge of tears and kept my eyes on my plate in fear of looking into anyone else's. The tension increased with each passing moment and didn't waver even when the master of the house disappeared with his aides closely following. Elle, with a passing glance at my father, left with a few maids and Cade on her heels. Mama and father left next. I didn't even dare look up at them. I just hoped they left soon. Surely the jewels in that safe could be resolved after Enjolras, Grantaire, and I left. And my part in it could be left as insinuated but not proven. I waited a few minutes after my parents had left the table to leave myself. Enjolras offered to walk me to wherever I was going, but I decline. A bit too forcefully but what can you do?

I yelped in pain when a fistful of my hair was pulled back as I turned a corner. I didn't even have time to react. The hairs on my body stood up and lights flickered in front of my eyes as my back collided with the wall and my head bounced against it painfully. My scream caught in my throat even before something thick crushed against my neck, effectively pinning me to the wall. It took a moment for my senses to catch up with the attack, but soon enough my sight rejoined me, and I was staring into my father's eyes. A whole new wave of panic washed over me. I knew this was going to happen. I knew it. I knew it. I knew it. I made to scream, but his other hand clamped over my mouth with his nails digging into my skin. I thrashed around and tried freeing myself, but the only thing that happened was a tightened force on my neck.

"I ought to tear to your innards out right now."

My pulse picked up. I blinked at him. What else could I do?

"I'm going to move my hand, and I swear to God, you little rat, if you so much as breath, I'll kill you with my bare hands." I blinked again to let him I understood.

Slowly my father removed his hand and grabbed the back of my neck, leading me towards a room. I could outrun him. If I'd been wearing my own clothes instead of the silly dress I'd been forced into. I glanced around the hallway. I could run into the room to my right, shove a chair underneath it, shed the dress, and try my luck at climbing out the window and scaling the building. Or maybe getting through the vents. Assuming there was a chair in the room. I thought to another plan. There was bound to be some kind of weapon, or object I could make into a weapon, in any of these rooms. I mirror I could break, a fire poker, anything...something...

"Fuck!" My father's voice echoed in the empty hall as I jabbed my elbow into his stomach and then down on his nose when he doubled over. Picking up my skirts, I sprinted into the first room I found unlocked. It set me back a few moments since it took three failed attempts to get into a room. "Eponine!" He bellowed as I tried shoving the chair underneath the knob.

"Come on!" I cried in a voice that I barely recognized. The chair was barely cooperating with my shaking hands. After a few breaths it finally complied, and I let out a cry of relief.

I didn't know where I was or where I could go, but I wasted no time shedding my many layers. I shook violently as I ripped the ties and buttons from the dress. I could find a way to repay the damage when I was safe. Better alive and in debt than...dead. I left my clothes and shoes in the center of the room, staring nervously as the door shook from my father banging on it. I was in nothing but a camisole and slip. Dead socialites everywhere were rolling in their graves. I pushed open the window quickly and looked to see how far it was between each window and to the ground.

"You can do this." I told myself, climbing onto the window and bracing myself onto the edge and facing the house. I could feel my pulse slowing down as I worked on breathing, slipping away from the outside world for a moment. I could do this. "You are Eponine-"

"Thenardier." My father's arm wrapped around my legs and dragged me back in. I shrieked. The stone that my fingers had latched onto, scraped rough enough to draw blood as I was brutally torn from it. My elbow collided with the side of the window, and the wind was almost completely knocked out of me when I dropped to the ground. I barely made it to my feet.

"I hope he skins you alive." I barked, meaning Monsieur Durand, before my father's sausage fingers closed around my neck and a pain shot through my lower back as he slammed me into the window sill. "I hope he lets me mark you, because there's nothing more I want to do than cut too deep when marking you." The last part came out strangled as his grip tightened.

"I would never sell you out." He hissed and whacked the side of my ribs with something blunt. I coughed and splurted.

"Marking me is different?" I asked, barely audibly. His grip slacked, but only a tad. And not from sympathy. He couldn't torture me if I was dead.

"I will make sure you never have a easy day until the day you die." His voice was threatening.

My heart raced and I could feel my strength slipping, but I wasn't going down willingly. I earned myself another fierce knock against the window sill. He pushed me back further until I could feel the cold, bitter air brush against my forehead. He was going to dangle me out the window. I caught sight of someone when I craned my neck to avoid my father's fist. Before I could even utter a sound, his grip on my throat tightened again. This was going to bruise. I was going to be forced to wear high neck collars like my life depended on it. Thank you, father. You really do give the best gifts.

"You're a worthless shell of a human being." I choked out.

His grip let up again but only to throw me into the adjacent wall. I gasped for a breath, scrambling to my feet. Every second trying to recover was a second I could have been running away. My father cackled as he stood over me. I just needed him to take a step-he fell into a crumpled mess after my foot came into contact with his crotch. The second he went down like a ton of bricks, I booked it out of the room. Top speed. He didn't stay down long enough for me to get a real nice head start, but enough for me to turn the corner before hearing him lumber from the room. My heart started racing again and pure fear was clouding my vision. I'd never been so scared in my life. I didn't know if I was more afraid for myself or for the baby.

"Cade!" I shrieked, seeing him and Elle walking around. I could have cried in relief. The both of them turned to me, completely bewildered at my appearance. I'll admit, I must have looked like a walking disaster.

"What happened?" "Where are your clothes?" Cade and Elle said simultaneously, then shooting each other a quizzical look.

I heard my father's elephant steps coming closer and darted behind Cade, using him as a human shield.

"Epon-" My father came to a dead stop when he saw that we had company. The both of us breathed heavily as we stared at each other before my father straightened up.

"Don't let him touch me!" I exclaimed, my body starting to shake again.

Elle's eyes flashed dangerously as she glared my father down.

"If you kids would be so kind as to let me have a moment alone with Mademoiselle Thenardier, I'd be greatly appreciative."

"No!" I cried when Elle grabbed my arm. I trusted her as far as I could throw her. "Get off me!"

"Shut up." Elle hissed. I clamped my mouth shut as I noticed her back up, and Cade started towards my father.

"Just let it go, Monsieur." Cade said calmly.

"I hope you burn!" I barked, a sudden rush of adrenaline shooting through me.

"Eponine!"

"I'll start the fire myself!"

"Thenardier!"

"Or better yet, I'll call the authorities."

"Quiet!"

"Javert is going to have a grand time marching to the Inn." My father shot me a dark glare.

"Shut up!" Cade didn't turn around as he yelled at me, still playing the human shield.

"Come on, Eponine." Elle tried leading me away again.

"Don't touch me!" I jerked my arm away from her. "I know what cards you're playing." I smacked her hand back and stormed away.

I was going to make sure Jean Durand held true to his promise of making my father pay, even if it was the last thing I ever did.

**Clearing any confusion:  
>1. <strong>**Eponine is assuming Elle was the one who told her father about the safe.  
>2. <strong>**Eponine came clean to Jean about everything.  
><strong>

**They'll be back in Paris next chapter! Cade won't be back for a while:/ And none of Enjolras's family will be present next chapter. **

**If I get lots of reviews, the next chapter will be up by the weekend...all you have to do is press the super cool little button below:)**

**All my love!**


	16. The Doctor

**As promised!:)**

**Disclaimer: I don't own a thing. **

I could have kissed the ground. No, really. Stepping out of the carriage into the beautiful city...I could have dropped right there and kissed the ground like it was the Lord reincarnated. Enjolras would have thought I'd gone crazy, though. So I settled for a large smile and glances up and down the street. It was good to be home. And alive, can't forget that. A few times back there I honestly thought that I would never see this city, this complex, that off colored brick among normal bricks used to build the complex. It was a relief to see it all.

"Joly." Enjolras shook the man's hand.

"Yes, yes," Grantaire grabbed to suitcases and started towards the stairs. "We can save formalities for inside. There's a bottle of scotch calling my name."

"Azelma's at the market with Courfeyrac and Combeferre. She should be back soon." Joly explained, eyeing me curiously.

"I ran into the door." I said sarcastically, rolling my eyes.

"She won't tell us what happened." I could hear the bitterness laced in Enjolras's words. Damn right I won't tell you. You'll be a fool and want to take revenge in your own hands. Let your father deal with him. "And even though she won't admit it, Eponine wants you to check her wounds and..." Joly nodded his head, understanding Enjolras's silent request. I kept quiet, neither confirming nor denying the desire to have Joly make sure I was well enough.

"Can you tell me what happened?" Joly asked quietly once we were in the bedroom. Enjolras and Grantaire were enjoying their reacquaintance with alcohol.

I took a deep breath. "Not that I don't have faith in your medical abilities, Joly, but do you think you could bring a real doctor around tomorrow after Grantaire and Enjolras leave? I'm worried something my have happened to the baby." I was more than glad to be behind the changing screen, so he couldn't see the tears starting to form in my eyes. It was embarrassing enough having to admit something might be wrong.

"Why would something have happened to the baby?" His voice was even softer than before.

"My father and Enjolras's father are old enemies." I started, casting a nervous glance towards the door.

I told Joly everything, making him promise to keep it between us and only allowing minor details to be told to whichever doctor he fetched for me. He was such a good listener that sometimes I'd be pacing and completely forget I was talking to someone. He'd ask questions that were completely relevant and comment on things that would give me the tiniest bit of hope. I continued explaining the weekend even as he laid me down on the bed to check out where my father had knocked my ribs. His face was blank, so there was no way I could read his expression. I bet all doctors had to learn to make that face, otherwise they could scare a patient or give the patient false hope. I smirked to myself as Joly muttered some jargon that I didn't recognize. Wouldn't it be strange if Joly, who was doing so fantastic with my health, was actually a complete dud in his classes?

"I think Elle told my father about the safe." I confessed, my voice just below a whisper.

"Elle?"

I nodded. "I don't know why, but I plan to find out. Even her father said that she's the only other one who knows where the safe is. Jean said it was empty and he didn't move the jewels. I think she was trying to frame me."

Joly looked like he was going to laugh but apparently decided against it. "You think Elle is trying to frame you? Why?" He did sound skeptical, though.

"I have a few theories..." I shrugged. "If Enjolras is back in the picture, then she's no longer the sole heir to the Durand fortune. With his amends made, Enjolras is looking at a hefty inheritance once his parents die."

"But if his lover is the daughter of his enemy..."

"And she's conspiring with her father against him..."

"Then he'd either keep Enjolras out of the will or have you offed." I nodded again. "And Elle probably wasn't counting on you confessing to her father about who you are and what you know."

"Exactly."

"And all the amends Enjolras made would fall apart if you were gone, because he'd know in the back of his mind that it was probably his father's doing." Joly helped me sit up. "Are you going to tell Enjolras?"

I shook my head, "Not yet. I don't even know if I'm right. It's just a hunch."

"Enjolras can be impetuous at times, so I'd say only go to him when you have your facts straight. No use slapping a horse unless you're ready to ride." I grinned at his comparison. "Enough about Enjolras, though." He waved his hand and handed me a robe that was on the dresser. "Your ribs don't appear to be broken or anything too serious. It doesn't seem like he hit you hard enough there to bruise anything but the skin. I'm guessing your fear and anticipation escalated the feeling of the hit. Your fingers are nothing to worry about. They'll be a little sore since the skin is so sensitive. You have a knot on the back of your head, that could be a concussion. We'll know for sure when I bring a doctor by, but until then keep something cold against it. Your lower back is pretty badly bruised like your neck. You're going to need to take it easy for a while. Have you..." His voice trailed off awkwardly. "bled?" He ended with a cracked voice.

"Bled?"

"Down...there."

Oh, Joly. "Not that I remember."

"That can definitely be a good sign. It means you haven't miscarried." I felt relief wash over me. "But you're not out completely. I'm really not that qualified to diagnose an unborn baby. I'll be by with a doctor, though, as soon as Enjolras and Grantaire leave. I promise you, I will do everything in my power to make sure you give birth to a beautiful, healthy baby."

I couldn't help myself. Despite the protestations from my many bruises, I flung myself onto Joly and hugged him tightly. He was too kind to me. I whispered a soft thank you and released him.

"You're too good." I smiled.

Joly kissed my cheeks and squeezed my hand, "Get some rest. I'll be back tomorrow."

Azelma didn't make it back to the flat until I was getting ready for bed, Grantaire was polishing off a bottle of brandy, and Enjolras was bathing. I heard her giggling like a little girl then gasp when, obviously, she saw Grantaire sitting there. I almost went out to greet her, but the eerie silence told me that I wouldn't want to witness what I'd be bound to walk in on. I could always feign surprise. But we all knew I knew. Or I could pop in on Enjolras. I laughed a little louder than I thought I would. He would freak out! Never mind that I've seen him naked plenty of time...I grinned. You could take away the title of prude, but Enjolras would always hold onto that modest mindset.

"What are you doing?" Enjolras came out of the bathroom as I was leaning with my ear pressed against the door.

"Oh, uhm," I looked at the door as Grantaire's door slammed shut. "Azelma's home." I finished lamely.

"You're not going to see her?" I stared at him. Was he really that naive?

"She'll just worry herself sick about all these new bruises. I don't want her to get in an uproar over nothing." I waved my hand nonchalantly then set it on my abdomen.

"She can join the club." He muttered, hanging his towel on the rack in the corner. I sighed. "She'll find out, you know."

"If she does, it won't be from me." I snapped. "I told you," I took a second to calm down then reach for his arm. Enjolras stared at me as I continued. "I will tell you when I can; but I know you. You'll shut down and take matters into your own hands the moment you know. These things will work themselves out, and all you need to know is that I'm fine."

"And the baby?"

I opened my mouth but nothing came out.

"Eponine."

"Ask me again tomorrow."

"Eponine!"

"Enjolras." I held onto his arm tighter. "Enjolras, if you care about me at all, you will ask me again tomorrow."

Enjolras broke away from me and ran his hands through his hair as he paced at the foot of the bed. I watched him carefully but didn't move from my spot. Let him take his frustration out on the poor floor boards. I swear, the boards at the foot of the bed were the most worn down ones in the entire flat from his constant pacing. I'd hate to see what that area would look like if he had a rug or carpeting there. I made a mental note to buy a rug. Just to see if I was right about it all.

"Are in capable of doing anything harmless?" He bit.

I considered it for a moment, "It just sort of finds me."

He laughed harshly. "Finds you."

"You'll feel better if you don't think about it. Just know that right now, in this moment, the odds could be in favor of us. For once this weekend. I am pregnant. You are the father. And this baby will not be named Bella."

His back was to me. He paused and tilted his head back, rubbing his hands over his face.

"Good." He shook his head. "Bella would be a really strange name for a boy."

.

Grantaire and Enjolras left the next morning, albeit begrudgingly and a bit hungover, an hour before their classes started at the university. The drunk managed to convince Azelma to meet up with a lady friend of his for breakfast and a walk in the park. Although, I couldn't even begin to tell you how he worked that one out. I don't think I'd ever take too kindly to any lady that Enjolras has fooled around with. Now that I mention it, though...I don't recall him ever mentioning if he's had a tryst with someone other than me. The thought of him with someone else did, I'll admit, make a flash of jealousy shoot through me, but I ignored it while I slipped into a loose fitting dress. Azelma knocked on my door before she left. I hid myself behind the changing screen when she walked in. She still hadn't heard about the bruises. I would tell her everything. She wasn't like those two babbling idiots. She'd wait for directions from me before doing anything risky.

"I can't believe I'm even agreeing to this." She hissed as she fiddled around with something.

"It shows you've got character." I replied, messing with the buttons on my dress.

"Character. Right." She snorted.

"You don't even know if he's been with this woman. He called her a friend, and she could honestly be just that."

"For his sake, I hope you're right." Azelma sighed. "Alright, well, try not to get into any trouble while I'm gone. I should be back before Grantaire."

"Be good."

"I always am." I caught sight of her skirts billowing behind her as she left the room.

Cautiously I walked out into the parlor after I heard the front door slam shut. I checked in the kitchen. Clear. The dining room. Empty. The guest bathroom. Clean, well, aside from the odd smell. No sooner than I shut the bathroom, the front door was knocked on. I paused. It couldn't have been Joly with a doctor. It was too close to the time Grantaire and Enjolras normally left. And what if Azelma saw him on his way here while she was on her way out? Maybe it wasn't Joly and a doctor. What if it was Elle? I panicked and another knock sounded. I wasn't quite ready to come face to face with her again. She said she was staying in the countryside to take care of some business with lose ends, but she could have come back early. She would know, though...My father maybe? I stiffened. Coming to finish what he started. No. It was a damned door. I could answer a damned door.

"About time" Joly mutter when I finally opened the door after a third knock. His face was flushed and behind him stood the man he promised me. I took a double take. Was the doctor his father.

"Messieurs." I greeted, opening the door wider to invite them in. The doctor was definitely aged, but there was no doubt about it.

"Eponine, this is my father." Bingo. "Father, this is Eponine Thenardier. She's the one Combeferre was going on about at dinner on Saturday. I hope you don't mind Eponine, you are always a fascinating subject to us revolutionaries. Like the poster face for our campaign." I stared at Joly. What did he expect me to say to that?

So I turned to his father, "It's a please to meet you, Doctor Joly. You must be so proud of your son."

"The pleasure is all mine, my sweet child." I grinned when the doctor kissed my hand, like I was a real lady or something. "The boy's mother and I are extremely proud of him. I guess you could say he's our pride and joy." He winked and his son blushed. "Now, he's told me the need to know information about you; and I think it's safe to assume that I'm here to check on the welfare of the child?" I nodded. "Alright, then I must apologize in advance for the position I am going to put you in. I can't imagine any lady would find it desirable. Shall we?" Joly and I led his father down to the bedroom where I was put into one of the most awkward positions that I willingly allowed my body to comply with. "Mademoiselle, would you do me a favor and tell me your birthday?"

I closed my eyes and pretended we were sitting on the couch having this conversation. "The eighth of December of 1811." I bit the inside of me cheek. Never again.

"Oh, my wife would go crazy with your star sign. What about your favorite color?"

"I don't really have one. I'm starting to like teal, though."

"Strong, mysterious color. You've got a name picked out for your baby? Hope of gender?"

"I'll never admit it to Enjolras, but I hope it's boy. Avaric."

"You hear that, son?" Joly looked up at his father from his place in the doorway. "Don't you go blabbing to the man. The last thing the man needs is to be doing is finalizing the rebellion plans while trying to keep his love from murdering his friend."

I pushed myself up by my elbows. "Finalizing?"

"Back down, my girl." I glared up at the ceiling. I knew he was mapping and drawing up barricades, but I didn't actually think he had gotten as far as an attack plan to the point of finalization. "What is your favorite thing to do in your spare time?"

My glare didn't subside. And he was upset with me for not telling him about my bruises? "I find it quite enjoyable to rearrange Enjolras's things. He's quite the comedian when he can't find his leisure book."

The doctor chuckled and moved my legs into a normal position. Oh, thank God.

"Do you mind if I have a look at your wounds that Joly looked over?"

"Not at all." I muttered.

After the doctor had finished examining every bump and bruise given to be the other day, he washed his hands in the kitchen as Joly and I quietly stood in the parlor waiting for him. I wished he'd hurry up, Azelma was due home any moment, and I would love to be able to tell her that everything was fine and there was no need to throw a fit. Joly looked around the parlor nervously. As if it had changed from the last time he was here. I rolled my eyes, holding him partially accountable for not telling me about the rising rebellion.

"I would have told you." Joly said as if reading my thoughts. I glanced at him. "Honestly."

"Well, my sweet," Joly's father walked back in the room before I could even respond. "You've obviously gone through an ordeal, but nothing you have is too serious to keep you from having a future. Your bruises should heal within two weeks if you keep a healthy diet. The scrapes will be gone by the week's end. And your baby," He looked at me sternly. "Is alive." I clutched my heart. It was probably the best news I'd heard all week. "But," Of course there was a but. "You need to rest. Lots of rest and relaxation." Awesome. Another few weeks of being stuck in this blasted place. "No strenuous activity. Even a walk through the market might risk things. Stay off of them for three weeks, and I'll come back to check on you, and we'll go from there. Sound good?"

"It could be worse." I shrugged reluctantly.

"Yes, your baby could be dead."

"Thank you, sir."

"Anything for a friend of my sons." He smiled sweetly and bid me farewell before following Joly out of the flat.

I cried out in relief. This was just too good. Rest and relaxation I could handle. I don't think I'd have been able to handle telling Enjolras that the first child he ever fathered turned out to be in critical health or dead. I closed my eyes and smiled. Finally, some normalcy in this craziness. Azelma walking back into the flat pulled me from my thoughts. She stopped in her tracks and stared at my neck as if it was the most hideous thing she had seen. I straightened up and waited for her to overreact.

"Are we moving out?"

"What?" Alright, I hadn't been expecting that.

She nodded to my neck, "Did Enjolras do that?"

"Azelma! I can't believe you'd even think that he'd do something like this." I barked. "As if he's some sort of monster." I spat out the last word.

"Sorry." She responded sheepishly. "I thought maybe the worst had happened."

"The drunk didn't say anything to you last night?" I rolled my eyes and started towards the bedroom. Azelma was standing at the edge of the hallway with her hands on her hips as she shot me a look she learned from mama. I sent her a wink to let her know I was only teasing. I knew what she and the drunk were doing all night. "Well, are you just going to stand there, or are you going to follow me so I can tell you how our dear parents are doing?"

"You saw them?" Her pretty face frowned.

"I _dined _with them."

Azelma sat on my bed as I sat on the trunk in front of Enjolras's pace place. I told her everything from finding Marius on Rue Plummet to the good doctor checking to make sure the baby was okay. When I told her about having to pretend to be Grantaire's lady, Azelma bristled a bit, her defensive Thenardier nature flaming up. I didn't tell her about finding out Grantaire's real name. I left like that was something he would do if their relationship progressed to that point. She fell into a fit of giggles at the name Bella, basically bringing up every point I made against the name. She 'awwwwed' when I told her of Enjolras's way of coming to term with the pregnancy. She was such a soft romantic. I smiled along with her, though. The baby had me finding things like that cute and swoon worthy.

We talked about father and mama showing up like that. Azelma suggested that maybe Cade wasn't on my side like I thought he was. But then I told her my suspicions about Elle. She took everything in, all my accusations and conspiracies, and nodded in agreement. I was glad she didn't look at me like I was crazy as Joly had; but I wished she would have had more to say on the matter. I wasn't just looking for someone to listen, I needed someone to help me sort through my thoughts. Obviously I couldn't go to Enjolras or Grantaire. Azelma was my only hope, and she was being hopeless. I sighed and went on. No use drilling it into her head if she wasn't having it. I told her about how the doctor wanted me off my feet for the new few weeks, and how he said he'd be back to check on me at the end.

"For free?" She asked.

"I'm assuming." I shrugged, crawling into the bed next to her.

"How is your morning sickness?"

"It's getting better. Not nearly as bad as it was."

"That's good. I'm really glad you didn't lose the baby. Say what you want about father, but I don't think he would have been able to live with himself if he knew he murdered an innocent child." Nevermind his daughter? "And I can't even imagine what Enjolras would have done."

I played with the edge of the blanket, debating whether or not to tell her about the rebellion. I decided against it. I wanted to hear it from Enjolras's mouth anyway. I didn't think the doctor was lying, but it would make me feel better to hear the truth from him and hear whatever else he had to say along with it. Even if it was a bunch of words I didn't understand.

"If Monsieur Durand doesn't do what he said he was going to do, are you going to go to Javert?" Azelma whispered.

"I can't, can I?" I looked at her. "If I go to Javert, he'll want to know how trustworthy I am. He'll do some digging and find out I'm the infamous Thenardier's daughter, living with Enjolras and Elle Durand. He's going to want to know why a Thenardier are under the same roof and both living. Then he'll dig deeper and see that Enjolras if part of the rebels."

"But he can't do anything to Enjolras for having a rebel mind." She reminded me.

"I trust the Monsieur Durand will hold true to his word." I lied. "You'll see."

Enjolras barely touched his dinner that night. He tore apart the biscuit, swished the wine in his glass around, and stirred the soup in his bowl like it was his job to do it. Grantaire offered to finish the wine for him, but Enjolras only mumbled a warning that neither Azelma nor I heard. I munched on my biscuit as I stared him down. I knew he was dying to know about the baby. He'd probably been itching to know all day. Was it rude of me to enjoy his nerves? A bit? A lot. I took a sip of water to hide my smirk from the table. I was going to tell him after. Grantaire and I were cooking when he came home. Azelma and I were setting the table when he got done reading for his classes. And whether or not our baby is dead is hardly a proper dinner conversation. Oh, don't worry. I had no intention of torturing the poor revolutionary. He was holding the truth from me, so why shouldn't I drawl this out?

"Grantaire, would you mind helping Azelma clean up? I need to talk to her sister."

"Oh, for the love of God," Azelma huffed. "I know you two are sleeping together. Everyone knows you two are sleeping together. We can stop pretending now." She added with an eye roll.

Enjolras didn't show any other emotion than the one that had been on his face when he asked Grantaire to help clean up.

"Hey, 'Zel," Grantaire scratched his head. "You know that there's rats under the back patio, right?" She nodded. "But everyone knows that there's no need to go and talk about it. It's understood. You know?"

Azelma rolled her eyes but I spoke. "I can help clean up. We all know that if Grantaire and Azelma are cleaning up nothing will get done."

"See, the double meaning is understood."

Azelma frowned at Grantaire.

"Eponine." I glanced at Enjolras, hearing the pleas in that one word.

"Excuse us." I complied, leading him out of the room by his hand.

Once the door shut, I glued myself to Enjolras, pressing him between me and the wall. I'd been waiting all weekend to do something like that. I snaked my arms around his neck and deepened the kiss. Being completely taken off guard, he didn't respond right away. For a moment I didn't think he'd actually go along with me, but after a few seconds he poured some serious emotion into the session. He let out a primal sound when he switched our positions. Me being at his mercy now. I moaned when Enjolras pushed our hands above my head and started using his tongue like I taught him. I couldn't help the grin that spread over my face. God knows how long we could have gone at each other, but Enjolras came to a dead stop when he was about to leave those oh-so lovely marks on my neck.

"Sorry." He muttered, worming away from me.

"Yeah, how dare you ravish me." I snickered lightly. I thought he was going to start pacing, but he slowly lowered himself onto the couch, so I joined him and took his hand. "I have some bad news..."

Enjolras snatched his hand back and buried his face in his hands. I felt my heart drop. I was only teasing, I hadn't meant to make him cry!

"I-" He couldn't even form a sentence. I rubbed his back.

"I don't know what's going to happen." I said, shaking my head. "I don't want to lose you, I...I really believe we have something. But I know that we're going to be fighting over this for months to come. I just hope our," I sighed. Our what? Relationship?...Yes, I suppose that's what we were. In a strange relationship. "relationship is strong enough to stand."

Enjolras said something that was entirely incomprehensible to anyone else but him.

"I've thought of several different ways to completely turn this flat inside out. I'll need help, but I've figured out how to move everything around. I've got at least a week of rearrangements in mind. Don't you worry, though, I won't disappoint. I'll be off my feet for the next month anyway." Enjolras took some time, but he finally lifted his head out of his hands. His face had lost color, but his eyes were bright as he tried making sense of my nonsense. "Who knows, I might even come up with a better name than 'Bella' if our baby's a girl."

"You didn't lose the baby?" His voice was hoarse. I felt a tad bad.

"Of course not. Where would you get a silly idea like that?"

"You stupid," He took my face and his hands and kissed me tenderly. "Stupid, stupid girl." I laughed against his lips. "I can't believe you." He kissed me deeply.

"Calling me stupid is going to get you nowhere."

"I thought we'd-"

"I know." I squeezed his hand. "But we didn't." I reassured him. "I have to take the next few weeks to delve in rest and relaxation. So that means being trapped in this flat again."

He frowned at me. "You'll clean up anything you mess up."

"I'm cleaning your flat and having your baby. You might as well marry me and give a title to us." I shifted uncomfortably under Enjolras's gaze. I wasn't serious. I had a baby to worry about, marriage would just add to the stress of the situation. "So I was thinking about going to Javert about my father." I switched subjects, knowing Enjolras's thought process wasn't too different from mine.

"Oh, you don't have to do that." He said, helping me to my feet. "I'm sure my father has serious plans for yours."

"Yeah, but your father won't be able to shut down the whole operation my father runs. Javert will be able to. I mean, I'm going to have to confess to him about who I am; but for all the information I'm going to give him, surely he'll pardon my crimes."

"Really, Eponine." Enjolras shook his head as we entered the bedroom. "Javert will cause more trouble than he solves."

"For me? Or for you?" I asked accusingly.

"Who told you?"

"It doesn't matter who told me. What matters is that you didn't."

"You have enough to worry about."

"Like our baby? Our baby." I sat down on my side of the bed. "A baby who will no doubt be born fatherless in the time of a rebellion." I snapped.

"What would you have me do?" He bit back. "I can't stop everything I've been working for just because we made a mistake!"

"Oh, please." I hissed. "Finalization didn't happen this weekend, the duration of time you've known. Have you even gone down to the slums?" I took his silence as a no. "Good luck fighting in the name of people who don't know you or want your help."

"Then take me down there."

I shot him a double glance. I'd expected more arguing. "Take you down there?"

"Or have Azelma and someone else take me there, so you can stay in bed. Get me down there so I can win them over." I stared at him. "If I have the people on my side, how can I lose?" By a bullet to the chest.

"I know someone you can talk to." I said after a while. Being in a relationship meant fueling each other's fantasies, right? "I can arrange it."

**Please review! They make me oh so happy:)**


	17. The Proposal

**Just something to tie you over while I work on the next chapter.**

**This is in Enjolras's POV. **

**Disclaimer: I wish.**

_Tuesday: 8 March 1831_

"Elle?" Grantaire frowned.

I nodded earnestly. "Do not say anything to Eponine." I warned. "The two of them have a decent bond, and I don't want my suspicions messing up their friendship. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself and neither would Eponine."

Grantaire stayed silent as we walked towards the university, taking in everything I told him. Eponine wouldn't bring up what happened this weekend, and anytime I brought it up, she would suddenly 'remember' something she had forgotten to tell me earlier or would suddenly come down with a bout of nausea. We all knew what she was doing, but no one said anything about it. Anyway, she didn't have to tell me. I was completely confident that her father was the one who beat her around. No one's hands are that fat. And no one would have beaten Eponine up like that and had survived to tell the tale. I just had no proof. Also like I had no proof that Elle was the one who gave the information about the safe to Thenardier. All I had was my gut feeling. Her and that God awful stable boy wanted nothing more than for me to fall out of my father's graces. Again. This was what I told Grantaire. He wasn't so much sold on Elle being part of it, but his hatred of Cade made him agree that the kid was involved.

"She was acting strange before Sunday's dinner." Grantaire mused.

"And she tried all weekend to bring something up that would upset my parents." I added.

He nodded. "Then why didn't she just say that Eponine is Thenardier's daughter?"

"I don't know." I shrugged as we walked into the grand building where political science classes were held. "The only thing I can think of is that is was all fun and games for her. She didn't want to tell me parents up front but wanted to give them everything for them to find out themselves."

"Your mom knows, though, doesn't she? Eponine told me about you two running into Christelle."

I rolled my eyes, of course she did. "My mother knows, but she hardly cares." I waved it off. "She'll be more than overjoyed to take part in the 'taming' of such a wild spirit. And if we have a boy, then the Durand family name continues. You know, it's all about passing the torch." It was ridiculous, that's what it was. And I know Eponine would take offense to that mindset. I'm certain that if it wasn't for me and the baby, she would have taken her father's spot in the slums. She was mysteriously terrifying. I'll tell you this, I'll never do anything to cross her or her sister. She'd kill me quicker than the king would.

"I'll make you a deal-"

"No."

"Come on!"

"No."

"It's a good name!"

"We're not naming our child after you."

"What if you have two boys?"

"Okay, I can do that."

"Really?"

"No." I shoved him. "You think Eponine is going to let me get her pregnant again? I got lucky with this child. Maybe in a couple of years, but God knows Eponine is not one to be limited by the ties of pregnancy." I frowned over my shoulder at the sound of my name being called. Over and over. "Courfeyrac." I muttered to Grantaire and tried speeding up. No use. He found me.

"Enjolras." He panted when he finally caught up. Grantaire couldn't help but smile. "I went by your flat to drop off some vegetables to Azelma. I thought I'd walk with you guys over here, but Eponine had said you'd already left." And then you found money?

"Yeah, sorry, my friend." I patted his back. "Grantaire needed to refill his flask before we arrived for the lecture." Grantaire patted his pocket proudly. "We better get going, though, it'll be starting any moment now." I lied. I didn't make a habit of it, but Courfeyrac was a persistent little twit.

"Alright, I'll see you this afternoon!" He said excitedly.

"What?" Grantaire frowned.

"Eponine thought it would be a good idea if I went with you to the slums to talk to those friend of hers. She said Grantaire would probably be drunk by midday, so you ought to take someone who will be able to communicate coherently. So I said to her that I speak coherently all the time. She wasn't certain at first, thinking maybe Pontmercy was a better choice; but I told her you don't even like Marius. And then she remembered you talking about me -which I'm completely grateful for, by the way- and how you once told her that if anyone was going to be your second in command after Lesgles, and I guess after Prouvaire, then it would be me. Sorry, Grantaire, my friend, but not one is going to give you the reigns of a rebellion. You can't even shoot a rifle." Courfeyrac finished his word vomit. I don't even think he took a breath.

"We really have to go," I tried again. "But I'll see you later, alright?" I grinned, hoping he would just leave.

"See ya!" And he bounced away.

"Of course Eponine told him to go with me." I grunted, watching Courfey weave through the crowd.

"I don't think he took a breath, Enjolras." Grantaire looked completely floored. "That's not normal." He took a swig from his flask.

"He use to be normal." I muttered as we hurried away. Just in case he came back.

"I told you he was strange!" Grantaire chided. "He's in my philosophy lecture, and the professor can't complete a thought without Courfeyrac commenting. He starts thinking and then starts talking."

"Who introduced him to philosophy?" I asked. "Honestly, he use to be a math and science man."

"He just enrolled in the class this semester." He said, peering ahead at nothing in particular. "He's not even doing well! What in God's name could have possessed him to risk that?"

We stopped and looked at each other before it clicked for both of us. "Eponine."

"Of course." Grantaire shook his head and started towards the library again. We didn't actually have a lecture to attend. We had a lecture to research for, but I would have said anything to get away from Courfeyrac. "Is Eponine mad at you?"

"I don't want to talk about it." I felt my face flush, so I walked faster.

"Oh, ho ho!" He laughed deeply, exerting himself to match my strides. "If Courfeyrac is your punishment, then the crime must have been delicious."

"I wouldn't call it delicious."

"What happened?"

"Nothing, Grantaire."

"Be serious now, you've already admitted you did something, you might as well tell me what happened. You know I'll only find out from Eponine herself, and if she's the one who tells me I'll be forced to side with her." He paused as we entered the library then lowered his voice to finish the thought. "She's like a puppy. I can't not adore her if she comes towards me with those big, sad brown eyes."

"You'll just go and tell Azelma if I tell you."

"I will not."

"No, you're right. You'll go running back to Eponine, so the two of you can have a good laugh." I reprimanded.

"Big, sad brown eyes. Adoration." He waved his arms. "So we've covered the ground that either way, Eponine and I are going to have a good laugh about this. Just tell me."

I sighed and looked around to make sure no one else was around. "She's mad at me because I wouldn't..." Did I really have to finish this in a public place? Couldn't he wait until we were walking back to the flat or something? I suppose it was my own fault. "You know..."

"Name the baby a normal name?"

I glared at him.

"Admit how much you want to name the baby after me? Agree to reorganize the house? Let her use her sharp tongue to cut the king down to size?" Grantaire rambled off. "I have no idea where you're going with this, you're going to have to give me more, my friend."

Almost. I had almost told him. But just as I was ready to, a sly smile spread over his tipsy face. Right. How stupid of me to think Eponine would have kept her mouth shut about what happened last night? I knew I shouldn't have believed her when she said she needed a glass of water. Apparently the Thenardiers had a very different definition of 'going to get some water' than the rest of the entire world population did. I rolled my eyes as Grantaire broke into a fit of snickers. Yes, yes, please draw attention to us.

"She told you." I hissed.

"My friend," Grantaire choked out between laughs. "You are truly a wonder."

"It's normal." I snapped.

"Sure."

"Would you have intercourse with Azelma if she was in Eponine's condition?"

He opened his mouth to protest but chose not to say anything. Point made. "I have had a lady or two in Eponine's condition in my bed. One of them was quite larger." Apparently not. "It doesn't matter that you didn't want to have _sex _with her when she's pregnant, it's how you said it that matters."

I flushed again. Yes, well, I suppose my wits weren't exactly with me when I was suffering from a momentary panic attack as she was trying to take off my pants. Words don't come easy to many men in that situation.

"You would have done the same thing." I rolled my eyes, playing it cool.

"I would have listened to the woman whose hand's were on my balls." Grantaire corrected me.

"Just start working, I don't have all day." I grunted.

"I nearly forgot, you have a date with Courfeyrac." I glared at him. "Shall I tell our dearest Eponine how you feel about some other people, too? Oh! I know, I can tell her- alright, alright, working, got it."

.

Eponine was lounging on the couch with her sister when Grantaire and I got back from the library. A silly grin graced her face the second we did. I wasn't going to let her have the upper hand in this, though. She'd expect me to be upset about her inviting Courfeyrac along, but I was well aware of the games she liked to play. And, frankly, two could participate. So I kissed her hand and gave Azelma a nod like I always did, then put my books away on the book shelf. That took me a moment to do, since Eponine rearranged everything...again. This time they were organized alphabetically by the last letter of the author's first name. Prouvaire and I had spent an entire afternoon one time coming up with every possible combination of book organization that we thought Eponine would think of. I spent the following night memorizing my books like the back of my hand. Anyway, if Eponine was disappointed that her chaos didn't set me off or back, her face failed to show it. Or any emotion for that matter. She was just examining her nails.

"Brandy, Enjolras?" Grantaire offered as I glanced around the room to see what else she misplaced.

"No, that's alright." I waved it off. "I need to get going soon anyway."

"Going?" Eponine frowned. "Going where? I thought you weren't going down to the docks for another hour or two."

"I just need to stop by some place before I go there. Azelma is more than welcome to come along."

Azelma gave her sister a look asking for permission before Eponine responded. "Where do you have to stop?"

"Father Roux. He's an old friend."

"I thought you said you needed to stop at the jeweler?" Grantaire threw out confused, just like I told him to.

"The jeweler?" I saw the color drain from Eponine's face. Azelma's face lit up as she realized what connected the two. "Why do you need to go to a jeweler? Or a Father?" Eponine all but spat out.

"Eponine..." I sighed.

Her eyes flashed dangerously, and she was up backing away from me like a cornered animal. In all seriousness, I was glad she was afraid of what she thought was coming. I was nowhere near ready for this, and obviously neither was she. Eponine's eyes narrowed into a glare when her back hit the wall, and I grabbed her hand. Azelma gasped when I got down to one knee. Thankfully, Grantaire kept his mouth shut. Eponine just stared down at me with complete mortification.

"Eponine..." I repeated. "I've never met anyone like you. You drive me insane. You know how to press my temper. And you know exactly what to do to make me second guess everything I've ever known. But you've opened my eyes to a new way of thinking. You're the last person I see before I go to bed at night, and the first person I see in the morning. Please," I reached into my pocket and pulled out my hand in a fist. "Do me the honor of," If it was possible, more of her color left her pretty face. I opened my hand to reveal nothing as I finished with, "Telling me what you were thinking when you invited Courfeyrac to the slums?"

"Ah!" Eponine shoved my shoulder as she let out a breath she'd been holding in.

"That was horrible." Azelma muttered behind us.

"I can't believe you." Eponine snapped as Grantaire broke into a fit of laughs. "Why would you think that's okay?" She hissed, brushing past me and plopping on the couch, hand firmly on her abdomen. "I could have miscarried." She added melodramatically.

"Right, me wanting to marry you would cause you to lose the baby." I retorted.

Eponine narrowed her eyes again. "Wanting to marry me?"

Grantaire came to my rescue, "Hell, Eponine, I'm still planning the day I marry you." Eponine gave the man a doubtful look. I expected Azelma to bristle. But the girl just shrugged. Eponine was the only one who didn't know how everyone felt about her. I guess you could say I was blessed that I was the one with her. I mean, if you believe in blessings. I don't. It's only logical that Eponine and I were together. By some long stretch of reason. "Enjolras just has one up on me, because he knocked you up first."

"Like you'd have the chance." She bit but not with much bite. "Courfeyrac isn't actually going with you." She told me, twiddling her fingers together. "I just paid him to say that." I kissed her temple. "With your money." She added with a smirk.

"I feel like your arguments are getting more and more ridiculous." Azelma groaned and Grantaire nodded in agreement.

"They might as well be married. I mean, they fight like an old married couple." Grantaire took a shot of something.

"We argue about serious things, too." Eponine defended.

"Yes," I added. "Just yesterday we were arguing about kicking you two out." Grantaire and Azelma frowned. "I said by the end of next week."

"But I think by the end of this week."

"Ha." Grantaire said, deadpanned.

"We can turn his room into a nursery." Eponine threw at me.

"And the liquor cabinet can be easily used at a shelf for bottles and other baby ware."

"Brilliant!"

"Please." Grantaire rolled his eyes. "You two would kill each other if Azelma and I left."

"Or we could get married." Eponine turned back to me.

"Elope and find our own place?" She nodded earnestly at my suggestion.

"You two haven't even been on an honest date!" Azelma cried. "You cannot get married without courting."

"Well, I mean..." Eponine shrugged. "Pretty much the best and worst part of courting has already happened. Some babies walk before they crawl, some couples marry before they court."

"And have children before they marry." Grantaired smirked. "Come on, my friend," He added, sighing in defeat. "We have an entire population to win over."

Eponine snapped her attention out the window, as if just realizing that I was due down at the docks today. The color had returned to her face long ago, but now it seemed to radiate. I knew she wished she was going with us; but I would not take that chance with her and my baby. The doctor said she needed rest, so rest she would have. I kissed her deeply as she started rattling off reminders to me about how to walk, talk, and act when I was down there. She told me who to look for and who to avoid.

"And remember: They are people. Talk to them like they are people." She pressed.

"I talk to the ABC boys all the time, Eponine."

"Oh, please," She huffed. "They aren't people, they're cattle."

**Please review! They make my day and keep me motivated:)**

**Next chapter will be in Eponine's point of view and will be down in the docks; because let's be real here...Eponine is not going to stay trapped inside when Enjolras is trying to win the support of the people she grew up with. It would take her out of character.**


	18. Jailbird

**You all are AWESOME! Thank you so much for sticking around even though I've been MIA with this. **

**It's not much, but I wanted to give you something. My French is horrible, so I used Google Translate. Sorry if it's incorrect!**

**Eponine is nine weeks pregnant, seven weeks from conception.**

**Disclaimer: No. **

I stared out the window, tapping my foot impatiently as I waited. It seemed to me like the sun was moving across the sky at an alarming rate, and I was stuck inside this Godforsaken flat. Azelma was gone. Grantaire was gone. The big oaf was gone. I really should have had that chatterbox go with him. With his intention of keeping me grounded in this stuffy place. It would have served him right. How can he think it's a good idea to keep me trapped in here? I am a free bird, I need to fly. I need to breathe in fresh air. I need to be some place other than where floors are wooden and walls are painted. My hopeful stare turned into a glare. What time was it? I'm pretty sure a whole colony of dust bunnies already formed in the corner by the window. Soon they'd multiply and take over the rest of the room. Hell, they'd probably cross the flat and claim it to be because of manifest destiny. That's right, I read.

"Finally." I hissed when a solid knock broke through the silence.

It's been said that to appear anxious is to appear unladylike. Well, come on now, since when has anyone ever thought of me as a lady. I yanked the door open and frowned at the person on the other side. The sheepish look he was giving me told me he was running late. Brilliant. Never trust a man to do a woman's job. Rolling my eyes, I let him in, making sure he knew my thoughts. Not that I did anything to hide them from my expression. I locked the door behind him, just in case luck turned to be against me.

"It took you long enough." I snapped.

"Sorry," He bit back unapologetically. "It's been some time, I wasn't sure how fat you'd gotten since then."

I snatched the clothes from Gavroche's hands. "It's not fat." I muttered, holding up the shirt. It would work.

"Why can't you just wear Enjolras or Grantaire's clothes?" He asked, his back to me so I could change.

"No one of class is going to be down there today. If I come waltzing in with nice clothes, I'll draw attention to myself. I'm supposed to stay in his damned flat. But I need to be down there." I told him sincerely, all past irritations aside.

"I've heard whispers, he's drawing quite the crowd. Everyone's more interested in him being present than what he has to say. But a crowd's a crowd."

"Do you have a coat, too?"

Gavroche turned back around and dug into the bag he brought with him. The coat was tattered but big enough to make me look like a skinny boy in a frumpy jacket.

"And you know the authorities will come where the crowd calls." Gavroche went on.

"If you're trying to say something, say it."

"I'm just saying, maybe you should stay on the edges. You don't want to get caught in the crossfire if a riot starts up. You know they don't care if you're pregnant or ill, they'll trample any man, woman, or child in their way."

"I appreciate you concern, Gavroche, I really do." I squeezed his shoulder reassuringly. "But I need to be there."

I stood with Gavroche at the edge of the docks, having done enough weaving and dodging til we found the perfect spot. We were far enough away from the stairs that Enjolras would be speaking from, so that he'd have to squint like an idiot to see us properly; but we were close enough to hear everything he'd say clearly. I looked around at the crowd that had been accumulating. I was impressed, and right: No one of class. But class wasn't what Enjolras needed, he needed the support of the people he was claiming to be fighting for. Gavroche pointed out some important people, in dock terms, who were hanging in the back, ready to leave if they didn't like what they heard. It was a good sign that they were here, though, I knew. It meant they wanted to believe in what the ABC boys had to say. I felt a grin pulling at my lips.

And then everything started. I saw Azelma come out of the building the stairs were attached to and walk over to someone in the crowd. Then Enjolras and Marius were at the top of the stairs, looking down at the people. He should have went closer to ground level, it looked like he would talking down at them. It wouldn't go over well if other people started to think that. Marius stayed at the top, but Enjolras ended up following Grantaire, who had a bottle of brandy in his hands, down further. They both stopped half way between the crowd and Marius, and Grantaire plopped down on the steps as Enjolras called the crowds attention. All the whispers died down, and I knew that Gavroche was right. It was his appearance there that had people here in the first place. They would stay, though. They just had to.

"_Vous êtes le peuple_," He started. You are the people. It was good. "You are the people who are living from day to day. You are the people who are trying to make ends meet with meagar salaries, if any at all. You are the people who work from dawn to dusk. And you are the people who should be the concern and not collateral. _Vous êtes le peuple._"

Gavroche and I sat on the crates behind us as Enjolras went deeper into his speech. I noticed a few people leave, but most of them stayed and some of them even nodded their heads in agreeance with what the guy was saying. He was saying some pretty words. They were condescending. He was really trying to empower the people of the slums. He spoke to them like they were friends, relatives, intelligent people he had come across at the university. He answered the questions that people in the crowd would shout out, and he pleased them. It was great, I'll admit. The important people were still hanging around the back, but their arms were no longer crossed.

The authorities were there, too, of course. But they hung back, way back, as to keep an eye out. None of them were high up on the hierarchy of law, so I don't think there was anything to be worried about. If Javert came around, though, it was time to go. Gavroche and I, of course, had already come up with several different exit strategies to get out without getting caught.

"Why?" I scanned the crowd for the person who asked it. "Why should we care about any of this? You can't help us, you have to political power." There was a murmur of agreeance, and I saw the smirks on the gendarmerie' faces.

"A voice, many voices, any voices," Enjolras answered. "Are strong tools. I have no power when I have no voice." A couple more people left. "How do you expect anything to change if you're no vocal about your struggles? How do expect the government to step up and do their duty if you're doing nothing to hold them accountable?" Gavorche nudged me when he saw a gendarmerie gallop away on his horse. Enjolras had a good thirty minutes to make his point and go before someone like Javert got here. Or the man himself.

"You're a university boy!" Someone else called, and a few more people left at that. The important people were still there, though. "What's your gun training? If it comes to a battle, the streets will run with your blood." I nearly threw up at the mental image. Stupid pregnancy.

"Why not?" Enjolras asked the remaining crowd. Maybe a couple dozen people. They whispered to each other. "I love my country. I love every part of my country. The good and bad, the moral and amoral, and the rich and poor. No person should have to leave their child out on the street because they can't afford them. No family should have to resort to prostitution and gambling to pay off debts or simply bills. How are you too succeed if the government is setting you up for failure?" No one left. "You are the people, you are the people who should be fought for. Countries have boundaries, but consideration should not. If the government is going to help the wealthy get wealthy, then they can sure as hell afford to help the poor get stable."

I grinned when some people nodded.

"Vive la France!" Someone in the crowd shouted.

"Vive la France!" Enjolras and Grantaire replied, encouraging the rest of the crowd to join in. Grantaire stopped after a shout or two and fell back to take some swigs.

"Look," Gavroche pointed to the important people. "They're going to support him." They were walking towards the staircase.

"Don't jinx it, you fool." I hissed, hopping off the crates and grabbing the bag with my dress and coat from Gavroche. "Monsieur," I greeted the gendarmerie with fake meekness after I had changed into more ladylike clothing. "I have no idea where I am," I lied and asked him to take me home. I put my hand expertly over my abdomen to let him know I was with child. It worked like cake.

I was at the flat for at least two hours before any noise was heard anywhere. Even then, I think it was a mouse scurrying in the flat above. Not even the sound of my fingers drumming against my book seemed to make any noise above a whisper. What was this? Shouldn't someone be back by now? It did not take that long to get from the slums. I made the walk from there all the time. Hell, I could be barefoot and pregnant and move faster. They had a carriage! How could they possibly take longer than a pregnant woman. Well, I mean, I didn't walk here today. But still. I would beat them. Maybe they went to get food before coming back. Or maybe Grantaire felt compelled to pick up some more alcohol. Yeah, I'm sure that's what it was. We'd all have to listen to Enjolras go on and on about how the rally went, and Grantaire was going to need the strongest alcohol man was capable of making to get him through the night. I reopened my book and took in some of the words. Enjolras had that effect on people.

My book no longer held my attention after another few minutes. Why was it taking so long to get- Finally! I looked over at the door when a key started jingling in the lock. I slammed the book shut and put it in the wrong spot on the shelf.

Azelma walked through the door and set the key on the table next to it. I deflated a little. I was expecting and hoping for Enjolras.

"Don't look so happy to see me." She teased unenthusiastically.

"Where are the boys?"

"Down at the jailhouse." My heart dropped. "Enjolras is buying Grantaire's way out. Javert showed up, but by the time he got there, nothing was happening. Only a few people were lingering to talk to Enjolras. So Javert made some story up about Grantaire being indecent in public." Azelma rolled her eyes. "I took some things back to the cafe for them. I doubt they'll be much longer."

"Oh." I slumped back.

"I figured you'd ask me how it went, but I saw you and Gavroche there." She looked critically at me.

"I'm fine. The baby is fine." I waved my hand dismissively. "Did Enjolras see me?"

"If he did, he won't say anything. He's going to be too riled up about Javert and the event. Marius asked about you." Azelma watched me for a reaction. I gave her none.

"-ridiculous." I let out a silent sigh of relief when Enjolras's voice came from outside the front door. It opened to reveal him and a disheveled Grantaire. "I can't believe it."

"Sweet freedom!" Grantaire cried, tumbling past Enjolras and into the flat. "Eponine, dear, sweet, Eponine," He fell to the ground in front of me and rested his head in my lap. "I've seen what it's like to have your freedom taken from you. I've seen a thing or two, Eponine. They arrested me and threw me in the jail. The people saved me. They fought for my freedom. I have seen the light. I believe in this thing called-"

"My money." Enjolras stole the glory of his fabricated tale.

"It's alright, Grantaire, I wouldn't have believed you anyway." I pat his head lightly. "How did it go?" I asked Enjolras, playing dumb.

"You tell me." He looked at me knowingly from the liquor cabinet.

"You really had them going there at the end."

"Those who remained."

"At least people stayed." I reasoned. "And some of those people who stayed are the ones you want on your side. You can always go back. If you show them you mean what you say then they'll warm up to you."

"Don't you two have sway down there?" Grantaire asked, accepting the bottle Enjolras offered. "Didn't Cade treat you like you were royalty, 'Ponine?"

I shrugged. "Fame and infamy aren't the same thing."

"I don't want them to agree with our ideals-"

"Your ideals." Grantaire corrected.

"-because someone threatens them to. I want them to want to fight for their right."

"Good luck." Azelma snorted.

"If people like me and Marius are fighting for them, surely they'll fight for themselves. We see the injustice, but they're living it. Why wouldn't they want to rise up in action?" He wasn't expecting an answer.

"We should have stopped for brandy." The drunk frowned at the now empty bottle, successfully changing the subject. "We never have enough brandy."

Enjolras rolled his eyes and snapped, "Because you drink it all.

**Please review:)**

**I don't know when I'll update next:P I'll try my best to get something out before I go back to school, so check over the next week. But I'm kind of obsessed with other relationships. Especially Elphaba and Fiyero, and now: Enjolras and Grantaire. Thank you Les Mis movie.**

**Speaking of the movie...What did you think of it?! I DEFINITELY fell in love with Aaron Tveit as Enjolras. THOSE CURLS. And the lips and voice, too...he's just all kinds of attractive. **


	19. Maisonette

**Hi!**

**So this chapter has got some fluff in it, but it's also relevant to story progress.**

**Eponine is eleven weeks!**

**Disclaimer: Nope.**

_Wednesday: 23 March 1831_

Enjolras was up to something. I didn't know what it was or how long he had been at it, but I knew he was up to something. He had been acting funny for well over a week, and he couldn't even look me in the eye. Normally, if it was any other man, I would have put the blame on someone else being in his life. But let's be serious, the only other thing I have to compete for attention against is France. Enjolras wouldn't know how to cheat on someone if there was a book and lecture on the topic. There were other things a man can do to his pregnant...person of choice? I even woke up early most days to watch him pack his things for the day, hoping to get some sort of clue, but he was so good at hiding whatever he was hiding. I was good. I was really good at finding out what I needed, but for some God unknown reason, he had a kind of upper hand on me. I didn't even know what kind of hand it was. Otherwise I would have bit that damn thing off and got my information.

And the worst part was that he knew I knew he was up to something. Grantaire was at the flat quite a lot. Azelma would pester me to no end when the drunk wasn't around. Then some of the other ABC boys would just pop up when I tried to sneak out to find where Enjolras was sneaking off to. As irritating as it was, I couldn't say it wasn't the least bit fun. I liked seeing how far I could get before one of them would realize it was me in pants. Enjolras was good, I'd give him that. He was good. But I was better.

Gavroche was a heavy pouch richer now. I had no clue how he was planning on distracting the boys, but I didn't care. I peered up and down the afternoon street as I adjusted Elle's pristine gloves. I figured I would blend in better if I wore one of Elle's dresses opposed to Grantaire's pants. I even twisted my hair into a pretty bun at the back of my neck. A few more years and I'd be able to do it just like a lady. A few men tipped their hats to me as I passed them on the street. I smiled back as demurely as I was capable of. It wasn't easy. I just wanted to roll my eyes at them. I was feeling confident, though. The nice dress blended me right into the Parisian society, and I had made it a whole block further than I usually got. I should have been more prepared. The closer I got to the Musain, the more nervous I became that I would be recognized. I just needed to get my hands on those papers and books Enjolras always took with him. And I knew they'd be in his little niche in the Musain. He kept everything-

"A lady such as yourself shouldn't be wandering these streets alone." My arm was looped around someone else's.

"Bah!" I snapped, yanking my arm away from him. "Why aren't you in class?"

Enjolras smirked down at me as his fingers grazed mine discretely. "Class was cancelled to give students the extra hours for studying."

"Then go study."

"I already have."

"Of course." I huffed.

"I don't understand why you keep trying to sneak out." He said teasingly. I glared at him. "Well, I guess the flat does get a little stuffy. But the weather will warm up soon, and then you can crack the window."

"Yeah," I rolled my eyes. "The weather."

"Are you feeling well?" He asked quietly.

"Yes." I answered in a clipped tone. I was not interested in talking anymore.

"I was thinking that since Joly's father gave you the okay to take walks," He paused awkwardly but then went on in his normal, guarded and ignorant way, "We should go get something to eat together before tonight's meeting. We all know you'll be there. Just eat somewhere and walk to the Musain. Together or on opposite sides of the street. Whatever."

I stopped in my tracks. Enjolras did the same, looking back at me in confusion.

"Are you asking me on a date?" I could have laughed!

"Well, I mean," He shrugged as much as he could with his current posture. "If eating at the same table in the same establishment counts as a date, then I suppose I am."

I smiled. He could be so frustrating at times, but then there were moments where he had me melting like ice in the sun. Like this. And his uncomfortability at the entire thing was almost comical. I wished I could have reached up and kissed him, but I knew that there were only a handful of cattle who knew about us and even less who knew about the baby. So I settled for a wider smile. He returned it with a small, indistinct smile of his own and started walking again. I felt something in my stomach as he brushed my hand again when I caught up to him. It may have just been the baby, our baby, but I really thought it was something completely different. Like butterflies. More than I ever got from a full blown smile from Marius.

"Are you going to tell me what you've been up to the past couple weeks?" I finally asked a few turns and blocks later.

"Studying very hard for exams. They're coming up, you know."

"That's not what I meant, and you know it, Enjolras." I bit, my pregnancy hormones rearing their ugly head.

"Javert keeps circling the Musain." He said. Okay, that was interesting. Forgetting my need to get to the bottom of his shadiness. I encouraged him to continue. "He's just waiting for us to make a mistake. Or for Grantaire to make a fool of himself publicly. We're doing nothing wrong, though. We're not scaring people, hurting them, or anything like that. We're meeting in a free exchange of ideas. I mean, Grantaire's got to cool it on the bottle, but as long as he can compose himself in public, we're fine."

"Won't he try and pull something funny?"

"What do you mean? Like fake an excuse?"

I nodded.

"Nah," He shook his head. "For all his faults, Javert isn't a liar." _I _wasn't so sure of that. Men would do whatever it took to get what they wanted.

We walked in a comfortable silence after he finished telling me different things the cattle did behind Javert's back in mockery. It was almost odd. Us walking around Paris like a normal couple. A wave of nausea hit me when I pictured one of us pushing a baby stroller, but I hid it from Enjolras. He would have grown concerned and hailed a ride back to the flat. I was not going back there. I was going on a date with the father of my unborn child. I held my head a little higher and moved closer to him a fraction. He didn't move away, but he didn't move closer either. I would take what I could get, though. He asked me out on a date. However awkward the asking was, it was such a big deal for him. To focus on something that didn't involve barricades and revolution. In a cocky way, I felt completely special.

Dinner was fine. I mean, it probably wasn't the greatest idea agreeing to go to a place where different smells came together to form one hell of an upsetting smell for the baby in me. I did a good job at hiding my discomfort and just nodded along as Enjolras made conversation about some of his classes at the university. He seemed to struggle with himself as to whether or not be should talk about his revolution. I wouldn't have minded if he had brought them up, but I wasn't complaining that he stuck to topics that wouldn't attract glares or jeers from the patrons of the place.

I had always loved listening to Enjolras speeches and arguments at the Musain. My current feelings for him aside, he was a very engaging individual and made you really dig deep for conversation. I remember when Prouvaire first came to the herd, he and Enjolras would get into the most heated debates. I honestly didn't know what began them. They'd be talking in the corner, smiling and laughing, and the next thing you'd know, Grantaire and Joly would holding Enjolras back while he tried to smash a wine bottle over Prouvaire's head; and Marius and Courfeyrac would be struggle to keep the flailing Prouvaire back as he tried throwing anything in sight at Enjolras. It happened all the time. Only in the last few months had it stopped. Anyway, Enjolras talking was an experience. I could listen to him for hours. So as much as my stomach was unsettled by the smell of the place we were in, my mind wouldn't let me stray too far from whatever string of topics Enjolras threw my way.

"I know neither of us are overly fond of using Grantaire's name," Enjolras switched from talking about how ridiculous philosophy was at the university to something relating to the baby. I hadn't even seen it coming. "But I was thinking maybe we could find some name that alludes to his first or last. If he hadn't brought home a street rat for Christmas then who knows how things would be."

"You've thought about this?"

A light pink tinged his cheeks endearingly. "I think about it-" He paused, looking around hesitantly. "About us a lot."

"I do, too."

He reached across the table and gave my fingers a quick squeeze before taking his hand back.

A few hours later, we were walking out of the Musain. Enjolras and Marius were going on about something they heard through the grapevine, Grantaire was trying to convince a group of three that he could probably wipe out the entire army with one brandy breath, and I stayed my distance from all of them. Close enough to be part of the group, but far enough away to be on my own. I could hear everything they were saying, but I kept to myself. It was better this way, anyway. I had no control over my pregnancy hormones, and just my luck, I'd lash out on one of the poor boys. So I hugged my jacket around me and walked on among the group.

Yet again, though, I was surprised. Enjolras and Marius had drifted towards me. I hadn't noticed until Enjolras grabbed my hand. Not romantically, a little, well, a little awkwardly, but he grabbed it. Like I said, I hadn't noticed the two of them sneak up, but I definitely did notice the sudden silence. I swallowed hard, but Enjolras refused to let the situation control him. So he went right on with Marius about that general he so admired. My heart was pounding as I tried imagining the faces of the others. Their 'fervent' leader who rolled his eyes when the boys talked about the girls they bed was having an affair of his own? Obviously it wasn't something that was going to be taken lightly. Especially when they all knew me because I had trailed around Marius like a lost puppy. Now I was holding hands with Enjolras? If my mind was reeling, surely theirs would burst! Stupidly, I glanced over my shoulder at Grantaire. He gave me a wide smile and exaggerated wink. Big help.

"I've been putting my pants on before my shirt lately." One of the boys behind us said.

There was a small silence before, "I've been flirting with brunettes instead of blondes. It's weird."

Marius glanced over after the third one chimed in with something. I didn't hear it. I could barely hear anything over the sound of my building anticipation. What was Enjolras doing? Did he know what he was doing? Of course he had to have something planned. He was not a spontaneous person. He liked planning things out in advanced. He liked to be ready at a moment's notice for anything that was spontaneous. But he himself was not a spontaneous person in the least. So I was a little nervous. Although, I couldn't lie, and maybe it was the pregnancy hormones talking, but I was a little turned on, too.

"Have you noticed a change in your daily routine lately, Enjolras?" Marius asked after he had responded. What did he say? What was he doing different? "Anything?"

Enjolras made a noise of indifference. I could only imagine the looks he got at that.

"I've found that I'm quite taken with someone." The drunk put in.

No one paid attention.

"You, 'Ponine?" Fueilly, I think, asked. "Anything different?"

"Are you all that daft?" I bit, yanking my hand back and turning to glare at them all. "Honestly, you act as if you've never seen two people holding hands before."

"Well, to be honest, he did a very poor job." Grantaire smirked. Enjolras frowned at him as we all came to a stop.

"Poor job or not!" Combferre, between Fueilly and Joly, motioned wildly with his arms. "Enjolras, you were holding her hand." He stated as if Enjolras was unaware of what he was doing. I told you they were all cattle. No. That's rude. Cattle are smarter than that.

"Am I doing it wrong?" Enjolras said. All of his followers stared at him. Were you doing it wrong? How can you possibly hold hands the wrong way? He didn't really think they were that stupid, did he? "Or am I supposed to get her drunk and bed her first?" Oh. He's being condescending. Even better.

"Look, my friend-" Fueilly started.

"This is your block, Combferre." Enjolras interrupted Fueilly. The two exchanged glances as Enjolras looked at both of them expectantly. "You might as well walk him to his door if you're just going to keep staring at each other." He added rudely.

"It's best you not say anything to anyone yet." Grantaire told them softly, giving Enjolras a sheepish gaze. Enjolras neither denied nor affirmed this.

I didn't understand Enjolras's suddenly hostility. I get that he hates to be scrutinized too closely over personal matters, but he pretty much laid his neck down for the guillotine. He grabbed my hand in front of all these idiots. What did he expect? Or maybe that was his whole point. Maybe he wanted them to react that way. I mean, I don't know what the possible logic was, but I wouldn't put it past him to have it planned out. Like I said, he wasn't spontaneous. There was a rhyme and reason to this. I watched Combferre and Fueilly stumble away from us, glancing over their shoulders constantly, as if we wouldn't be holding hands if they looked over one more time. Maybe this was his way of getting them focused on the revolution? Maybe if they thought he wasn't taking it as seriously anymore, then they would feel the need to step up to the plate. Actually...the more I thought about it...I'd bet anything that's what he was doing. It was quite brilliant.

Once again, as we began walking to the next stop, a silence settled over all. Enjolras lead me by the hand and the rest of the group by fascination. Obviously the drunk and Joly knew about everything there was to know, but they had to be in a stump over him publicly holding my hand. Well, maybe not Grantaire. Grantaire was the all-knowing. I told him everything, and Enjolras told him everything. He was the middle man. I should have been pumping him for information. However, I wasn't going to give up the feeling I got from being hand-in-hand with Enjolras at midnight in Paris. People went nuts to things like this, and it was happening to me. I bit my lip to keep from smiling like an idiot. I had something people dreamed about. Me. My lip pulled from my teeth. I couldn't help it.

"I'm happy for you." Enjolras gave Marius a double take.

"You don't even know our story." Enjolras answered skeptically.

"Doesn't matter." Marius laughed as we neared his street. "Most of us were betting on how long it would take for you to sleep together," Enjolras's eyes narrowed at Grantaire. The drunk grinned like a fool and winked at us. Joly looked a little more ashamed, but he kept quiet. "But clearly there's more than just sexual tension, so I'm happy for you." We came to a stop.

"I'm not looking for your blessing." Enjolras's brows scrunched.

Marius laughed again, "I'm not in any position to hand it out, Enjolras." He squeezed his shoulder and then went on to Courfeyrac's building at the end of the block. Enjolras watched him with a frown.

"They're not going to keep this secret." Joly muttered after a while.

I tried getting an idea of where we were at as Joly and Enjolras had their own conversation. They were just debating how fast it would take to spread. I didn't feel the need to weigh in. I already knew it was going to hit the ABC boys like wildfire. We turned down a street that had a bakery I used to steal bread from all the time when my father was first teaching me to steal. And then down another street where pick-pocketing was easiest at the hour just before dusk. Then down a street where I'd never really ventured before, even though it was merely a few paces away from the easy foot traffic. I think it was out of my father's jurisdiction. I don't know. The street looped around a center fountain that was in view of all the buildings. Flats, that's what they were. Several complexes connected together. How had I not noticed this place before? It was so beautiful. Even the outside of the buildings were wonderful.

Aside from the grungy stable boy sitting on the stoop of one of the buildings.

"Cade!" I broke away from Enjolras and met the dirty stable boy with a hug.

"Oh, Lord, today must be my lucky day if I'm being embraced by royalty." Cade said smoothly with an even smoother smile.

"What are you doing here?" I grinned widely.

"You know me, I go where the money takes me." He pulled out a pretty amount of francs and held them out to an approached Enjolras. "And where the boss man tells me to be."

"You called for him?" I asked Enjolras.

"He has a way of getting things done quickly." Cade smirked along.

Without saying a word, Enjolras walked past and up one of the complex sidewalks. Offering his arm to me, Cade lead me along behind the ABC boys. I could hardly believe how much I missed him. He was just a nice person to have around. And better to be a friend than an enemy, might I add. He was like the sober, not sleeping with my sister, version of Grantaire. I wanted to ask him how Elle was doing as we ascended two flights and headed down a few doors. Although, I didn't really care how she was doing. I just wanted to know if Jean had ever proven Elle was the one feeding my father information. I doubted he would tell me, though. He had this odd idolization for me, more so my title, but I knew his loyalties were bound to be with Elle. She was giving him something I had already sworn to someone else. Not verbally, but all the same.

Enjolras jiggled with a set of keys and let us in one of the flats. I lost my breath walking in to it. It was more maisonette than a flat. It was beautiful. I just gaped at everything we passed as we went deeper inside.

"Whose place is this?" I managed to get out.

"Don't worry." Enjolras waved it off and beckoned me towards him. "You'll love this."

I followed close behind him, wanting to stop to touch or examine everything, though. He opened a door to a room on the second floor and walked into the darkness. I stood in the doorway, waiting for him to light something. One by one, he lit several candles around the room. My heart stopped beating when the dim light illuminated the room, shedding light on all the furniture and decorations.

A nursery. It was a nursery.

"I thought yellow was a fairly neutral color." Enjolras said, running a hand over the yellow walls. "It goes well with the wood, too. I didn't think you'd really care about that, though. And I just put the books in the shelf however. I figured you would just disorganize them anyway." He nodded to the bookshelf with a small grin.

"This place is yours?"

He shrugged, "Ours, I suppose."

"You bought a home? With what money?"

"My savings." He looked around the nursery. "Sold all of Elle's dresses to pay for the nursery, though." He smirked deviously.

"Is this what you've been up to?" I gasped.

His smirk faded into sincerity, "I wanted to surprise you." Mission accomplished. "I know I'm not the most loquacious person when it comes to my feelings, but I truly care about you." He scratched the back of his neck nervously and offered his hand to me. I took it without hesitation. "You make me happy, and I want to make you happy, too."

"You do." I nodded. Oh, God, I could feel myself tearing up.

"I want to continue to." He kissed my cheek.

I kissed him deeply, not trusting the sound of my own voice.

Enjolras smiled back down at me, "We're starting a family."

**Did you like it? Please review! Your thoughts mean so much to me:)**


	20. Lesgles

**You all are too good to me! Thank you so much for all your support! I'm truly blown away with all the reviews/favorites/alerts you're giving me for this story. I can't thank you enough. **

**Sorry this is a bit short! I'll make it up to you!  
><strong>

**Eponine is fifteen and a half weeks pregnant.  
><strong>

_April 23, 183: Wednesday Night _

Fueilly and Combferre were huddled in a corner with a few other cattle when I trailed behind Enjolras and Grantaire into the ABC cafe on a Saturday. Whatever conversation they had been so deep in suddenly stopped, and they all looked about like children caught with their hands in the pants. Marius had been fiddling with papers and dropped them suddenly. Joly was the only normal one. Well, as normal as Joly can possibly be. It had been weeks since Enjolras outright held my hand in front of them, and things had been surprisingly dull in the cafe. I had a feeling, though, things were about to change. Just by the looks on the guilty one's faces I knew something had been said to others. Enjolras nodded about as if nothing was out of place, but Grantaire went right for the absinthe. Completely skipping over the wine that usually preceded it. I stood awkwardly, feeling like a caged spectacle.

"Enjolras-"

"I had a meeting with General Lamarque this morning." Enjolras talked over Prouvaire.

"In your new maisonette?"

Enjolras glanced at Bahorel but otherwise ignored his comment.

"He seems to think that we should stay low during these times." They were only listening to wait for a break to resume their pussyfooting. "What with Javert waiting for something to happen."

"Enjolras-"

"You all know I respect the man more than anyone-"

"Enjolras-"

"But there are some things he seems not to be understanding."

"We need to-"

"The people will not wait for Javert to back down, and we cannot let them suffer just because some copper is hot on a hope. If anything, we need to give him something to fret."

"Enjolras!" Joly finally spat in exasperation. Enjolras tore his gaze away from the crowd of cattle and singled in on Joly.

"What is it, my friend?" It sounded more like a threat than a question. Either way, I fiddled with the sleeves of my dress. I could feel myself growing increasingly uncomfortable as the seconds passed.

"They know." He sighed. "You can pretend nothing. They know."

Enjolras didn't even glance at me. He just stared at Joly before letting his eyes wander over the other boys sitting in the room. They were all practically on the edge of their seats, waiting for their papa to tell them a story. I plopped into a seat near me, this situation was making me lightheaded. I was going to be sick. I swore it.

I could have laughed at Enjolras' pathetic attempt to get out of the onslaught, "There's nothing to know."

"Are you paying her?" Someone burst out. I popped out of my seat, glaring around for the speaker. I would have clocked them if I'd known who had said it.

"Paying her?" Enjolras said it as if the thought was disgusting. It made my heart flutter a little. My emotions were incapable of sticking together. "Of course not."

"So there is something?"

"Do you think I'm a nutcase?" Fueilly snapped at Bahorel. Bahorel shrugged. "He took her hand in the middle of the street. Pontmercy saw it! Joly and Combferre, too!"

The students shot glances between Enjolras and me, waiting for someone to say something. I could feel their eyes burning into my skin, but I kept my gaze steady on Enjolras. Was he going to say something? The can was open, we couldn't close it up again. Let what happens happen, but don't just stand there in silence like this. Finally looking around at the faces staring up at him, Enjolras fidgeted in a way I had never seen him before. He was nervous, and it was written all over his face. His gaze caught mine and held it for a moment or two before he sighed and stepped off the incline that gave him a sense of power in his monolouges.

"Why do we care so much?" Marius spoke up, sharing a look with Enjolras before standing up. "Prouvaire, I don't ask which ladies you've met or bedded. If Enjolras has a woman or women, it's none of our business."

"Expect for the fact that he's up there every week preaching us to get our head out of the clouds! To focus on the one true love we should all hold above all other pleasures. If he's here speaking that, only to go home to a warm bed..." Lesgles paused as he contemplated finishing the thought. "Then I doubt his credibility."

"Wait, no," Courfeyrac suddenly chose now to use his brain. Well, I'd hardly call it using his brain, but there was substance behind his words. "She's pregnant!" Enjolras went pale. "She told me herself a while ago!"

And I thought it was silent before.

"When did she tell you?" Enjolras asked skeptically as Grantaire ruined the whole damned thing with, "Well, the cat's out of the bag now. S'more absinthe, please."

It was almost comical how several of their jaws dropped. I didn't think that actually happened in real life.

"At Pontmercy's party." Courfeyrac answered Enjolras.

Enjolras ran his hands through his hair and then crossed the room to stand next to me. "She's not that pregnant, you idiot." Someone let out a breath. "But we are together," It pained me to hear how it seemed to pain him to admit that. Even when he took my hand, I felt he was partially against the entire thing. Like I was some sort of mistake he regretted. "And we are expecting a child."

And then the uproar started. At first there was nothing but silence, but as soon as it had come on, it was greeted by the boys auguring and debating with one another, demanding things of Enjolras. Several were arguing that there was really nothing wrong with our situation, but as expected, several disagreed. They agreed with Lesgles, thinking that because Enjolras was occupied in other areas of his life, he would not be devoted to the cause as he had been once. They all stayed, though. No one left at the news. They all stayed here. It only affirmed my suspicion that they were all cattle. Especially when Enjolras finally managed to wrangle them long enough to tell them the meeting would not be carried out today. They would meet tomorrow instead. Lesgles was the first to storm out, pointing an accusing finger at Enjolras, telling him to get his shit in order. Feuilly, although not as heated as Lesgles, was next, frowning with disappointment at Enjolras as he left. Bahorel and a couple more were at the rear, not even sparing their leader a glance as they departed.

The few who remained sat in silence, soaking the information. Joly twisted his hands together in the seat next to Grantaire, who had found an extra bottle of absinthe. Courfeyrac and Combferre sat slouching, staring distantly at the incline where a speech would have happened.

"Well," Prouvaire cleared his throat awkwardly. "Uhm, when...when were you two first together?"

Enjolras gave him a look of indifference.

"The eighteenth of January." I mumbled, staring down at my feet. Not like I kept track of the days or anything.

Prouvaire let out a low whistle, and Grantaire smirked as he leaned back with his hands behind his head.

"Why?" Enjolras snapped, not liking to be out of the loop.

I grinned at Grantaire, "Grantaire just became a very rich man, I'm guessing." I told him with a laugh.

Grantaire opened his arms wide, "Do I know them or do I know them?" He patted himself on the back.

The next day, when every single one of those boys came back to the cafe to hear Enjolras' speech, they all paid Grantaire a hefty amount for winning the bet they'd all placed on how long it would take for Enjolras and I too sleep with each other. Enjolras was pissy about the whole idea of the bet, thinking that it was crude, but I couldn't help but find it amusing. Actually, I wish they would have let me in on it. Quietly, I sat in the back next to Grantaire and Courfeyrac, listening as Enjolras gave a speech much more powerful than he had for yesterday. It seemed like being on the edge of the cliff with some of his cattle really had him stepping up his game.

.

"Don't you look dashing."

Several days later, Grantaire stumbled into the kitchen as I sat nibbling on bread that was left over from dinner hours ago. The drunk, who was completely drunk, blinked a few times at me. Nothing about him was right, and his total wrongness had me forgetting my hunger. I jumped to my feet when he staggered backwards into the wine rack that Cade had stole from some woman in another neighborhood (we just told Enjolras it was a gift). A few bottles crashed to the ground when Grantaire's drunk weight crashed into their supporting structure. The different colors blended together to form a grotesque color that matched the grotesque smell. Stepping in the alcohol and on the shattered glass, I dropped to Grantaire's side as he tried getting his baring. He groped around frantically for something, anything. His hands found the spilt wine and bled from the broken glass abusing his skin. He didn't even flinch. Just stared at his hands as the crimson gushed out like convicts from a prison. It was all happening so swiftly that I didn't fully understand what was going on. I didn't need to know everything, though. Grantaire was drunker than usual. Grantaire needed help.

His silence was just as alarming as his stage of intoxication. He just watched each new event so intently, quietly observing what was going on. It was so unlike him. I wondered if he tried a new wine or maybe someone spiked whatever he was drinking with something dangerous. Although it wasn't the first time Grantaire had come home completely out of his mind, it was the first time he acted anything remotely like this. When I attempted to get him to his feet, he scrambled away from me. Like I was going to hurt him. I sat where I landed, staring at him as he stared at me. After a few breaths and slow advances, he finally let me help him up.

"Here." I handed him a glass of water when I got him to the kitchen table. That's right. A table in the kitchen. I have a kitchen table made of nice wood, with trim and everything.

"What is this?" He recoiled after sniffing it.

"Water."

"Do we have any wine?"

I glanced at the floor by the rack, "You hardly need anymore wine, Grantaire."

His attention snapped to me when I said his name.

"What did you have to drink today?"

"Not enough."

"I asked what, not how much."

"I asked for wine, not permission." He bit back.

I stiffened.

"Apologies," Grantaire sighed, coming back with two bottles of wine. "I forgot that you pregnant urchins are easily offended." He snickered. "I suppose calling you an urchin is not any better."

"Hardly."

"What shall I call you then?" He mused, opening one bottle. "A whore? Enjolras's play thing? His mistress? His-"

The sharp pain of my hand colliding with his cheek cut his drunken ramblings off. I glowered at him. I may have been one of those, or all of them, but he was no better than me to talk down in such a way. Once again, he was blinking away whatever haze he was in. I didn't let my glare ease, though. He may have been under the influence of whatever he was drinking, but there was always some truth to these things.

"What's wrong with you?" I hissed.

He rolled his eyes.

"Does Enjolras know you've gotten so sloppy? Isn't Javert just waiting for you to slip up?" He shrugged, so I shoved his shoulder roughly. "What's gotten into you?"

Grantaire groaned heavily, slouching down in the chair and making some noises from the back of his throat. I showed him no comfort. If he was drunk silly, then he deserved everything I'd do to him before the alcohol finally knocked him out.

"Enjolras knows everything." Grantaire grunted bitterly.

"He only thinks he does." I softened a bit at the lack of bite in Grantaire's bitter words. He may have been terribly rude; but he was still the same sorry soul who slept in a fetal position with one eye open and still scared when something came at him. He was a tragedy. And who drinks that much if they have nothing they're trying to chase away? He was Grantaire, not some ridiculous street wanderer.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled, looking into his glass of water and then taking a swig of the wine bottle instead. "I forget my manners more than I should."

"Grantaire," I shifted uncomfortably. I had no problem being direct, but I did have a problem with not quite knowing the answer to a question. "Is there something wrong?"

"With me?"

"With anything."

"Paris is in shambles, if you haven't noticed." He said seriously, but I knew him well enough to know he was trying to be sarcastic.

"And it's residents?"

"ABC."

"And Les Amis?"

He glanced at me and then back at measuring the water against the wine. Grantaire shrugged.

"I remember when I first saw you." He grinned like an idiot. "Everyone else noticed you because you were this poor little girl, trailing around after Pontmercy, but I saw someone else. I saw someone I could identify with. You were so in love with Pontmercy..."

"Are you telling me you were in love with Enjolras?"

"Anyone who has the pleasure of hearing Enjolras speak is in love with Enjolras." I laughed but agreed. "I called you Luna before I knew your name. You reminded me of the moon orbiting the Earth, so Luna it was." His grin widened. "I told Enjolras, I told him that you and I were going to be quite the pair once I got you away from Pontmercy. I was right, wasn't I?"

"Of course you were." I took his hand and squeezed it gently.

"I saved you."

I nodded, "I owe you my life."

"That's too much to hold in my hands."

"Are you ill?" I asked after a few minutes in silence, hearing nothing but the wheels in Grantaire's mind trying to form a complete thought.

"Nothing a drunk sleep won't cure."

"Grantaire-"

"He's leading us to our slaughter." Grantaire withdrew his hands from mine and downed the wine bottle just as quick as he opened it. I stared at him. So this was brought on by the meeting tonight? Something happened. Was there a big push forward in their endeavors? Did someone from the slums come by to tell Les Amis of support from the people? There were so many things that could have happened. "I'll be dead before I can fall in love with someone, and your baby will grow up without a father." He said it so casually. As if we were talking about the weather.

"Did something happen tonight?"

"Nothing more the usual." Grantaire sighed as he struggled to open the next bottle of wine. "And those boys. They don't truly seem to grasp the idea that their days are numbered the longer we stay there. Every word that comes from Enjolras's mouth is another nail in our coffin. You know as well as I do that the people will not rise. When the going gets tough, the people hide with their tails tucked between their legs."

"Has it begun?"

"Do you think I'd be here if it had begun?"

"Well, you clearly don't believe in the people."

"I believe in him." Grantaire said with some finality.

"Your still awake?" Enjolras walked into the kitchen after some more breaths of silence. I didn't know if he was talking to me or the drunk. Either way, Grantaire kept a steady, sour gaze on the man. "You should get some rest. Someone in your condition."

"How was the meeting?" I asked him, not leaving Grantaire's side but wanting to find something out.

Enjolras smiled down at the paper he was reading. "Brilliant. I can hear the people sing. Isn't that right, Grantaire?"

Grantaire didn't answer him, but Enjolras never looked up for a confirmation.

"Cade found a coffee table that he's going to bring by tomorrow." I told Enjolras, taking both empty bottles from Grantaire. He frowned at me as I left him with the water.

"Fine." Enjolras mumbled, although he obviously was not fine with it. "Azelma went home with Courfeyrac. She told Grantaire to tell you, but I have no faith he did." Grantaire rolled his eyes. "I have to stop by his place before classes on Friday. I'll call her a carriage to bring her here when she sees fit."

"You're just letting her stay with him?" Since when did Azelma give two thoughts to Courfeyrac?

Enjolras glanced up at me, "She's hardly my charge, Eponine. Why does it matter if she stays here or there? She's a grown woman." He stole a look at Grantaire who was glaring into the full cup of water.

I intended to respond, but he went back to reading his document. Already checked out of the conversation. Grantaire gave me an empathic gesture and then tried to drink some water. So I gave up the conversation and started helping Grantaire out of his chair. As I had the drunk up, and supporting at least half of his weight, Enjolras spared me a gaze and told me that I needn't leave the candle burning for him. He said he planned on getting some work done before the dawn. I didn't move for a moment, analyzing the way he said it, the look on his face when he said it, and the intonation of his voice when he said it. Nothing was given away, though. At least, nothing I didn't already know. I didn't respond to him. I doubt he would have heard me anyway. I didn't vocally respond, but I could feel my insides start tearing themselves up at those quick little sentences. Grantaire was right, wasn't he?

"And here I thought if I drank enough, the bottom of the bottle would take me before the revolution." Grantaire moaned as he soaked in his tub while I scrubbed soap into his wine and vomit crusted hair. I'd never been more thankful for Enjolras not desiring more than a glass or two of anything.

"You're not going anywhere, Grantaire." I told him softly. "You're going to stay with me forever until we're both old and gray, dying from laughter as we play yet another joke on Enjolras at a family Christmas party." He laughed at my ridiculousness.

"The people won't sing. We've been tuning for months, but they won't harmonize with us."

"I know."

"I'm right about all this. We're fighting to die."

Of course he was. Freedom was Enjolras final front. It's what he was fighting for; and freedom did not come without a cost.

**Despite the heavy ending of this chapter, there will be fun E/E fluff next chapter! I was going to put it in here, but it wouldn't have made sense earlier, and I really wanted to end with Grantaire**. **You'll be learning about him some in the next couple chapters :)**

**Review if you're ready for some fluff;)  
><strong>


	21. Apollo

**Thank you so much for all your support! I can't even begin to describe how happy your reviews, alerts, and favorites make me. It's been such a shitty week, but you all manage to make me smile when I get those emails. **

**If I could, I would give you your very own Enjolras; but until I figure out how to do that, you'll have to deal with my interpretation of him.  
><strong>

**Eponine is seventeen weeks pregnant!  
><strong>

**Enjoy!  
><strong>

"This is ludicrous." Enjolras muttered as he helped me in the spare bedroom.

Another room I was truly excited about. Not only did we have a kitchen table, but we also had a spare bedroom. And a guest bathroom. I mean, sure, it was all quite simple compared to the setting Enjolras and Elle grew up in. In my perspective, though, it was like my own little mansion. The Inn had plenty of rooms and bathrooms, but they were strictly for guests and clients. My father and mama had their own room, Azelma and I had our own room, and we all shared a bathroom. In the maisonette, every room was mine to do with as I pleased. If I wanted to make a cup of tea in the kitchen, I could drink it in the parlor. If I wanted to pen a letter to mama, I could do so in one of the spare bedrooms. If I wanted to read a book from Enjolras's study, I could do so in the bathroom. None of the rooms were off limits. Well, technically, Enjolras's study was. But let's be honest, was I really going to listen to that minor detail? No. Of course not. Anyway, liberty of will for the rooms had me making an executive decision about the one across the hall from the master bedroom and next to the nursery. It would be Grantaire's.

"We already call that bathroom his, we might as well give him a room to go along with it."

"He has a room." Enjolras bit lightly. "It's back at the flat, where he belongs."

"Oh, hush." I tsked him. "You know you can't imagine a life without him."

"I'm not kicking him out of my life," Enjolras tried to reason. He stopped messing with a pillow and leaned against the wall next to the bed. "Grantaire is like your favorite book." I looked over my shoulder at him. "It's your favorite, so you always keep it even if you don't necessarily read it anymore. You just keep it around for the emotional attachment to it. Sitting on the far left of the bottom shelf for security and foundation." He paused, staring hard at the floor. "Does that make sense?" He asked, looking up at me.

I nodded, "Grantaire's your favorite."

He just stared at me, not anything else. So I smirked at him, because I didn't know what else to do.

"Come now," I said, finally cracking under the intensity of his gaze. "He'll be here any minute now, and you haven't even fussed over the dust that settled since we walked in."

"You're a good person." Enjolras told me before moving back to his fluffing of the pillows.

I shifted uncomfortably and excused myself, pretending I smelt something that unsettled me. Enjolras would have these moments were he would completely surprise me, catching me off guard. I mean, living with and loving Enjolras was an adventure in and of itself, but these new moments were really, well, new. I'd be listening to him go on about some speech he was intending to give to the cattle, or a part of a speech he wanted to incorporate into the meetings somehow, and then he would level me with a comment, kiss, or touch. And I would just sit there, unaccustomed to his forward advances, trying to figure out what he was up to. He didn't even necessarily have to be up to something. I didn't know how to handle his new actions. It wasn't that I thought he was incapable of doing something just to be sweet; but I'd hardly known him to be like this in the past, so the suddenness of them had me a little cautious. Old habits die hard.

Enjolras appeared at the top of the stairs, and I stood up erect when several loud noises came from the hall. He followed me as we hurried to see what the commotion was over. Of course. Of course. Grantaire lay in a heap at the foot of a miniscule staircase while Combferre and Marius went after him, and a wide-eyed and bloodied Courfeyrac stood at the top with his hands up in surrender.

"I barely touched him." Courfeyrac breathed nervously as Enjolras went down to help the other two.

"Liar!" Grantaire coughed out. "He's trying to kill me!"

Enjolras grimaced as he and Marius supported Grantaire's weight between the two of them. "I doubt that."

"He's been drinking since we got to the Musain this morning." Marius explained.

"Mixing wine and brandy." Combferre told us once Enjolras lead everyone in. I walked with Courfeyrac and Combferre, trying to get a good look at Courfeyrac past the blood. "Together mostly." Combferre added with a disgusted gag.

"Would I be a burden to ask for a cleaning?" Courfeyrac asked quietly.

"Go home, traitor!" Grantaire shouted, attempting to get to his feet for a go at Courfeyrac; but his lost equilibrium had him colliding into a bookshelf. Despite the seriousness of the situation, I couldn't help but laugh at the look on Ejolras's face when all of his books came tumbling down.

"I'll help, 'Ponine." Marius offered.

"I'll never talk to you again if you help him, Thenardier." Grantaire threatened while Enjolras scrambled to pick up his books, leaving the drunk a mess on the floor.

"Shut up, Grantaire." I snapped. "Otherwise I'll call for Cade to come help you."

Grantaire and Enjolras frowned at me. Well, I wasn't actually planning on it. Marius and I sat on the edge of the tub as Courfeyrac cleared up his blood in the basin in Grantaire's bathroom. Marius said that Courfeyrac and Grantaire had been fine up until they reached the maisonette, and Grantaire turned around, they assumed for a thanks, but ended up delivering a blow right to Courfeyrac's cheek. The boy at the basin said he thought Grantaire was going for his nose, but his lack of coordination had the fist landing there instead. Not that he was too upset over it. "Grantaire never was one for sharing," He said bitterly. I sneered at his back. I would have given him a good fist to the face if he had proposed sharing my sister. Marius added that Grantaire fell down the stairs when Courfeyrac pushed the drunk off of him as he tried biting him. I bit back a laugh this time. I could only imagine Grantaire trying to attack like a watchdog.

Marius left to dump the water as I checked over Courfeyrac's face to make sure nothing was terribly out of place. I wasn't as qualified as Joly, or even Combferre, but I hardly thought anything looked broken. He did look to be storing some nuts in his left cheek like a squirrel, but I figured that was just the swelling from Grantaire's poorly aimed blow. His neck was a little red. I guessed Grantaire had him by the neck at one point. His nose, which had been bleeding earlier, looked fine. He told me that he was prone to nose bleeds, so it had probably been a coincidence that his nose started bleeding when Grantaire roughed him up. I shrugged. I didn't really care either way.

"Enjolras is pouring some coffee down Grantaire's throat," Marius announced when he walked back in with the basin. "You'd probably take advantage of the opportunity by sneaking out the front now."

I held Courfeyrac's coat out for him as he hurried to get his waistcoat on.

"Merci, Eponine." He kissed my cheeks and booked it out like he was going to be late.

"I don't think Grantaire was going for his nose." Marius told me as we descended the stairs.

"Why's that?"

"Courfeyrac's always talking about how ladies love his bone structure, and now you can barely make it out with that swelling." Marius chuckled. "Grantaire may be more brilliant drunk than sober."

"How sad." I mumbled.

"Makes for great entertainment, though." Until he drinks one too many and ends up face down in a ditch, breathing his last breath. My stomach turned at the thought, and my heart severed another tie to Marius. What had I made for then? A great errand runner?

Enjolras, Combferre and Marius retreated to the study, leaving me to care for the drunken mess. Not that I minded. I'd seen worse from Grantaire, and I'd help him through anything. Besides, I knew what it was like to feel like you were staring at the tip of a barrel because of lost love. Or unrequited, whatever. So I sat with him in the kitchen in silence as he stared into his coffee, much like he had stared at the water the other week. I didn't push him along this time, though. I just let us go on in a comfortable silence, only hearing the noises from outside rush in through the window. Neither of us seemed to take issue with the silence. Grantaire looked content to analyze his drink, and I was content in analyzing him.

"You can hardly tell." Grantaire said hoarsely after a while.

"Tell?"

"That you're pregnant." He clarified, taking a tiny sip of coffee. "You can hardly tell you're with child."

"Joly doesn't think I'll show much at all until later." I shrugged. "Because I'm so small anyway."

And then he was silent again.

The next time Grantaire had Enjolras jumping out of our routine was later that night. It must have been an hour after we had started to doze off. Enjolras had his arm tightly around me, his breath warm on the back of my shoulder. We had taken to falling asleep like that. It made him feel like he was in control of everything, and that made him happy; so I was more than willingly to let him have that control. Besides, if we were doing more strenuous activities, I would be the one in control. Anyway, I hadn't even begun dreaming yet when I heard Enjolras hissing my name. I almost slept right through it, acting as if I was just imagining him saying my name in a dream. Something in his tone, though, had be stirring. He was already climbing out of bed by the time I managed to wake myself up to alertness.

"I think Grantaire is having a night terror again." His voice was heavy with sleep. "Will you go warm some milk up for him?"

"No," I whispered, pulling on a robe. "You go warm the milk up, and I'll go to him."

Enjolras considered me for a moment.

"Don't think like that." I snapped. "You know I wouldn't." I chastised lightly. "Please go get the milk."

He nodded before we both left the room. Grantaire was sitting up, leaning against his head board as he blinked rapidly at the darkened ceiling. His face illuminated by my candle gave him a haunting appearance. He was clutching fistfuls of bedding as he tried to slow his breathing down, but it didn't look to be working. I noticed his blinking stop momentarily and took it as a sign he recognized my presence. Quietly, so quiet that I almost didn't hear him, he apologized for waking me. I told him to think nothing of it and disappeared into his bathroom to fetch some rags. He was still in the same position when I returned and dampened the rags with the water from the basin on the manity-he refused to call it a vanity, for those were for ladies-in the corner. I moved the nightstand so that I could sit next to him with the candle and rags on the stand.

"You should really see a doctor for these, Grantaire." I said, pulling on his ear so he'd stop staring up as if waiting for his maker to take him.

"The doctor will just bill me after telling me what I already know." He mumbled roughly.

I laid a cold rag over his head. "Then perhaps heed his warning?"

"Then I can't drink."

"So don't drink."

"It's a dilemma. If I stop drinking, I start having night terrors. If I have night terrors, I start drinking. If I start drinking, les Amis laugh. If they laugh, I keep going. If I keep going, I piss Enjolras off. If I piss Enjolras off, I stop drinking. And then it repeats. It's a cold circle."

"You don't have to keep drinking just because les Amis find it amusing."

"I find their laughs annoying, I have to drink to drown them out."

"You're impossible, that's what you are."

"Where is your baby's daddy anyway?" Grantaire asked distractedly after I told him to take his nightshirt off. He gathered the sheets more securely around his lower half. I snorted. When had he ever been shy?

"Getting you some warm milk." I said, pressing a new rag to his cheeks while I held his face still by gripping his chin.

Grantaire wrinkled his nose. "Isn't that a woman's chore?"

"Would you rather him wipe you down?" I challenged.

"Fair enough." Grantaire snickered.

"Grantaire?"

"Hm?" His eyes were closed and a half smile was gracing his face while I kept at wiping away his sweat.

"What goes on in them?" I asked. "In your terrors, what makes them so terrible?"

"It's just-"

"I added some honey to the milk, because that's what my mother did to get Elle and I to sleep on restless nights." Enjolras. Man of the most inopportune moments.

"That's very kind of you, my pet." Grantaire regarded him in a way you would a child. Enjolras frowned at his friend's mocking.

"Was it really necessary to undress him, Eponine?" Enjolras gave me and the drunk a skeptical look. Oh dear God above! Honestly.

"Well, I just couldn't help but use his feverish body as an excuse to ogle his brawny physique." I stood up briskly. "Forgive me if my history plagues my present." I slapped the wet rag I had been holding onto his chest and slammed our bedroom door shut behind me, locking it. He could sleep on the couch for all I cared.

.

Enjolras thumbed through the bookshelf in the parlor as I helped Grantaire look presentable for going to some of his favorite crawls to recruit for les Amis. He promised Enjolras that he would step up his game for the good of "your cause", not that he ever really had game or conviction for the cause, since we were giving him free board here. Enjolras had spent the better part of a night going through different things that Grantaire could possibly not mess up. He talked for at least four hours. Not really bouncing ideas off of me, more like talking aloud and nodding when I shot something down. Finally he settled on the drunk recruiting people who went to the same bars as he. Enjolras figured that Grantaire went by them so much that he was bound to have friends or acquaintances who would listen when he spoke. By the time I had thought it through, though, thinking that drunks have selective hearing, I was too late to voice my concern to Enjolras. He was already sleeping. Snoring, actually.

So I tried helping Grantaire at least look like he knew a thing or two. Not even that. I knew he knew what he was supposed to talk about. He just didn't care. If he looked like he cared, though, maybe he could find some luck. If he looked like he didn't believe that he was being led to his slaughter, maybe he could find some more cattle to lead to the slaughterhouse.

Oh, that's terrible, isn't it? I swallowed the thought, smoothing out the nonexistent wrinkles in Grantaire's waistcoat. Enjolras shot a look over his shoulder again, the third one in the matter of minutes. It wasn't the same look he had grown accustom to giving us these past couple days, the one his sleep-deprived brain was torturing him over. Now he looked like he was trying to figure out what was out of place since he couldn't clearly see it. A smile spread across my face when I realized what was troubling him.

"Alright, comrades," Grantaire pinned a badge to his coat, mocking Enjolras without getting the man's full attention, only a glance. "When I return, there shall be legions of young men awaiting the word of Apollo." Grantaire bowed. I watched him closely as he did and then as he walked away. This was a really bad idea. I could just feel it.

"He won't be back tonight." I told Enjolras, who was still stumped at the bookshelf. "You should call for Joly to trail him."

"Joly's..." Enjolras trailed off. "Joly's preoccupied tonight."

I paused. Preoccupied? "Then I'll have Cade do it."

"Because that will go over well." He muttered sardonically, dropping to a squat to look at the next shelf.

"Yes, well, it'll be better than Grantaire waking up alone in a ditch tomorrow morning." I snapped.

"Grantaire is fine, 'Ponine." Enjolras sighed.

"Because he makes for great entertainment when he's drunk?" I hissed.

Enjolras came back up from his position and turned to face me with a frown, "Don't put words into my mouth. Especially Pontmercy's." He turned back around.

"There's nothing wrong with the damn organization, Enjolras!" I cried, fed up with his quest to find what was askew. "And Grantaire is going to screw this up, you know it."

"He'll be fine." Enjolras repeated. "For someone who thinks so highly of him, you sure have no faith in his abilities."

"Oh, please." I snorted. "My recognition of his inabilities is better than you giving him false hope."

"I give him false hope?" He retorted skeptically. I raised my eyebrows in response. Enjolras sighed and rubbed his hands over his face. "Yes, he has a tendency to stray from the point, and he doesn't care more than he cares. But I can't turn a cheek to him just because he's made mistakes in the past. If he wants to prove himself to the cause, then who am I to try and stop him?"

"He's not trying to prove himself to the cause, Enjolas." I folded my arms. "He's just looking for your approval. Now you've gone and given him this impossible task, so when he fails, he's just going to drown his sorrows in a bottle of brandy. Top that, he'll go to the brandy before he disappoints you, because he'll over think. I bet you he's on his way to one of those bars right now, thinking how he's going to screw this all up, so by the time he gets there, he'll already have the bartender waiting with his regular."

Whether he didn't want to believe or he didn't believe me, Enjolras turned his back to me again and went to the desk on the other side of the room. I stared at him as his fingers danced along the handle of one of the drawers. He started to open it but then shut it before I could even blink. Then just as swiftly as he had crossed to the other side of the room, he was back on my side. My breath caught in my throat at his sudden closeness. One of his arms circled around my waist, eliminating any distance between us; and his free hand came up to my face, gently stroking his thumb over my cheek. He could probably feel my face heating up under his touch. Hell, he could probably see my face heating up. He was like marble, though, aside from the slight curve to his lips. His lips, which I found were increasingly difficult to look away from. What was he doing? Was he so calm? Why was I so nervous? I felt the pressure from his thumb increase. I didn't know if it was because I had moved my head a fraction closer to him or because he was pressing harder. Oh, damn it all to hell, I just wanted him to kiss me. Or have his way with me. Whatever. Both.

"I want to try something." Enjolras whispered against my lips.

I bit back a whimper at the feel of his lips ghosting over my mine and that breath of his that tickled the hairs on my face. I think I nodded. I'm sure I did, because I would have had to be an idiot to say no. Enjolras took my hands and placed them on either of his sides, mumbling for me not to move them. I nodded again. I knew for sure this time, because a lock of hair slipped from behind my ear at the movement. And I was well aware of it slipping, because Enjolras took his sweet old time putting it back before caressing my face. He had one thumb on the underside of my jaw, so he could tilt my face up towards him. I watched him intently before my eyes fluttered shut as he got closer to my lips. I could feel his eyes shifting to different areas of my face, studying me as he moved at the pace of a snail. I didn't mind so much. It wasn't a gawking study. It was like he was truly interested in how I reacted to him. And, well, I was quite interested to reacting to him.

"Don't." He breathed. His lips couldn't have been more than a few millimeters away from my lips. I didn't know what he was talking about. My mind was too cloudy with his scent and heat and physical being. I was curious to find out, though.

Not knowing what to do with them, since he told me not to move them, I fisted my hands into the material of Enjolras' waistcoat as I felt his lips hover a breath above mine before he finally placed one soft and innocent kiss on my top lip. The kiss was so mesmerizing even though there was hardly anything to it. I tried deepening the kiss, but I felt a slight pressure on my face. _Don't. _He was telling me not to take control of the situation. He was telling me that he wanted this moment. It was bittersweet. I didn't know why I listened to him, though. I could have taken control, and Enjolras would have followed me to the bedroom and back until my heart's desire was content. But I was intrigued. I wanted to know what he was doing, why he was doing it, what brought it on, and how far he planned on taking it.

The entire thing was almost as if the a warm breeze was playing a mind trick on me. His lips were barely a memory on mine. A sliver of warmth still in the places his lips last touched, but I could no longer feel the pressure of them. But it wasn't the wind, it was Enjolras. It seemed to take hours just to get to that point. In reality, it hadn't been more than three minutes from the time he held me to when he placed a gentle butterfly kiss on my top lip, bottom lip, and then encores for both. His nose nudged mine each time he switched lips. Although I was unaware of it mostly, I knew his body had moved an inch closer to mine from the new stance he had. Of course, it took my mind way too long to comprehend it.

Enjolras' hands were on mine again. He moved them to wrap around his waist and then up his back, flattening them when I instinctively had them curled, as he deepened the kiss from barely there to something a little more intimate. His hands moved back from the current position. Both of his thumbs were at the back of my jaw, some of his fingers flirting with my hairline, and the rest were lightly grazing over the skin of my neck. Sending chills up and down my spine with tracks of gooseflesh in their wake.

I tried really hard not to respond to his kisses. Well, not respond, but not take the control that I wanted to take. I managed somehow, though. The kiss never got out of hand. I don't even think tongue was involved. In a way, it was exploratory. We hadn't kissed like that at all up til this point, and I had a strong feeling that was the entire point Enjolras was trying to make. Even as the kisses deepened to their furthest extent, which shouldn't have clouded my mind as much as they did, I could barely form a thought or think of forming a thought. So I sank into the kiss. Let Enjolras have full control. But when I gave him that full control, he came to a sudden stop.

"Huh," A small smile spread across his face as he felt his lips. I blinked at his own swollen lips and wondered if mine were similar.

"What was that about?" I choked out, my voice not quite sounding like it should. His smile turned into a deep smirk at my tone.

"That's how I like it."

"Do you have a lot of experience kissing like that?" I teased, but I was a little afraid to hear the answer. Which caught me off guard. This was _Enjolras_. His pillow is probably the only thing that'd experienced it before I had.

"Not like that." He mumbled, brushing a stray hair from my face and placing another soft, chaste kiss on my lips.

"So that's it?" I coughed as he untangled himself from me and started gathering his things. "You're just going to leave me all hot and bothered to write in the margins of your romance novels?"

He sent me a look that reaffirmed my suspicion that this pregnancy was making me ridiculous.

"You know my feelings." About me and about boundaries drawn by the baby. "Besides, you can teach me something tomorrow."

"You're downgrading our relationship to a learning experiment?"

He shrugged, "I think I've proven learning can be fun." And then he disappeared into his study.

I failed to see what was so fun about being left like hit and run first kiss victim. I stared at his closed door for a few more moments before turning around and rearranging anything I could possibly rearrange. What was I supposed to teach him, though? Not that I thought he knew more than me, because I definitely had him beat in some areas. But how could I follow that? It just wasn't possible. Especially since most mind blowing things I could teach him were off limits since he has the whole irrational fear of hurting the baby or the baby seeing his penis or whatever his insecurity was. I retreated to the nursery and sat at the chair by the window, watching the street and waiting for inspiration.

"Called it." I mumbled God knows how much later, after the maisonette had been dead silent for a while, as I watched a man with Enjolras' hair, build, and coat pull on a hat. A hat that looked just like Enjolras'. The man was leaving the complex, looking left to right, and starting in the direction of Grantaire's closest haunt.

**Please review:)**


	22. The Lark

**Hello, kind followers/people who just happened to stumble upon this!**

**The next couple chapters won't be terribly long, but they'll be full of important things!**

**At the beginning, Eponine is twenty and a half weeks pregnant; and at the end, she is twenty-one weeks. **

**Disclaimer: I own a super cool laptop.**

"You're simply glowing."

I looked up from the flower I was smelling to frown at the blonde next to me. Where did she even come from? I glanced at the merchant selling the flowers, but the idiot was too entranced by the girl's beauty to see how odd she was. Suddenly I wished I hadn't agreed to come with Enjolras to the square today. Azelma always told me horrible stories of goody women acting nice. Of course I would run into one of them my first time here.

"Uh," I took her appearance in. "_Merci_." I settled on.

Most of her perfect blonde hair fell in perfectly coiled ringlets down her back while some fell perfectly over her shoulders, landing just below her chest. She had these perfect blue eyes that held way to many perfectly positive emotions. There was no way this girl was human. Or, at least, hadn't experienced a human existence. I just couldn't find one flaw to her. Well, maybe her flawlessness was her biggest flaw. I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. Why wasn't she saying anything? Did she know that it was incredibly rude and weird to stand there, staring at someone? A whimsical smile graced her angelic face when I stopped squirming and got a hold of myself. Was this some sort of game? Was all her purity a façade for some deep, psychotic issue that I was feeding? Did she get a thrill from watching people doubt themselves in her presence? I took her in for another moment. Then I laughed to myself. Who was I kidding? Just look at her! She looked like Mary had just dropped her off here to torment me. So I returned her smile and went back to smelling the different flowers the merchant was hoping someone would buy.

She just stayed there, though. Maybe she wasn't eloquent with words. Maybe she was mistaking me for someone she knew. I just didn't understand why she was being so weird.

"Did you want to smell these?" I asked her, close to shoving her if she didn't do something.

"I'm not usually allowed to talk to strangers."

Where was Enjolras when you needed him? "Forgive me if this comes off rude: Why are you talking to me then?"

"You seem very nice." I should have laughed in her face.

"Are you here with someone?" I ended up asking instead.

The blonde blushed furiously as she turned her face away from me a little. "I'm supposed to be reading a chapter from a book my father bought me the other week." Was she serious? She was blushing over something as simple as coming to the market instead of reading? Who was this Lark? "He doesn't like me to leave the house without him; but it's the first beautiful day we have seen in weeks, how could I not?"

I paid the merchant some coins and took a group of withering flowers.

"And you?" She asked, following me through the crowd. "Are you here with someone?"

"I am." I told her. She looked at me expectantly. I hated living to people's expectations.

"Why did you purchase the withered ones? Why not the full ones you were smelling?"

I shrugged, and she frowned at my unladylike action. "A little fall of rain will make the flowers grow."

"That's very poetic." She observed. "Do you come to the market often?"

"Apparently too much."

She giggled. "Perhaps I could come more often if I knew I'd have a friend to see." I refused to look at her. She didn't even know me. How could she consider me a friend? I knew all of the ABC boys far longer than I knew her, and I would hardly consider some of them friends. "Why are you glowing?" She preceded as though she didn't make the situation awkward.

"I've heard some women say it, so I suppose it's my pregnancy." I glanced about, trying to pick out Enjolras' dark locks in the crowd. I thought I spied them near the merchant selling things that cost more than Elle's entire wardrobe.

"You are with child?" The blonde gasped excitedly, pure glee reaching every pore on her face. "That is wonderful! Oh, I do hope you the best. Have you any names picked out? How did you tell your husband? How did he react? I always imagined men crying when they hear they are responsible for a new miracle from God." I bet I could bottle up some energy from this Lark and make a killing.

"I don't think he cried," I wasn't lying, at least. "We're still debating over names, but I'm sure we'll come to an agreement. Our friend seems to think we'll name the baby after him."

"That would be terribly confusing for the child."

"That would be terribly misfortunate for the child." I corrected. The Lark let out a full and breathless laugh this time, and for some God unknown reason, I smiled along with her. "It was a pleasure to meet you, Mademoiselle." I let my smile widen falsely. "I should really be finishing up before the sun begins to set."

"Will you be here tomorrow?" She asked hopefully.

"Oh, I really couldn't-"

"Please?" She looked like a kicked puppy. "I don't know many others outside the church. It would be nice to have someone to talk to who wouldn't report everything back to my father." I really did love puppies. "I have doubts that my father will find out I left the house, but if he were to, I would feel it worthwhile to tell him it was because I needed to see my friend." It was like an angel was holding a sad little puppy in front of me, pouting for me to pet it just once.

I pet the damned puppy, "I can be here just after the last class at the university ends."

Her face lit up, "Tomorrow it is, mon ami."

"What is it?" Enjolras asked later as we walked back to the Maisonette. He held several books he was intending to place in the nursery and a couple other packages while I held tight to my withered flowers. "You've been quiet." He added as justification for his question.

I rolled my eyes lightly, "I met a girl at the market."

"So?"

"Have you ever met someone who you swear you've known prior?" He shrugged briefly but nodded. "That's what it was like. I can't remember where, or even if I truly know her, but I just have this feeling I know her from somewhere."

"Maybe you and your father robbed her house years ago." He suggested in jest. But we very well could have.

"I told her I'd come back to the market tomorrow after the classes at the university end."

"I can't go with you."

"Why not?" I scowled. "What happen to this 'we' thing you wanted to try out?"

"Some of Les Amis and I have a meeting with a few other student leaders, Eponine." He said sternly. Oh yes, I forgot. I come second to his patria. Enjolras' gaze turned bitter, "Perhaps you could drag your winecask along."

"Perhaps _you _could drag _your _winecask along." I retorted.

Enjolras shook his head as we headed up the stairs to the front door, "I hardly have the time."

"You mean the patience."

.

Grantaire sat numbly outside on the bench in the courtyard that was encircled by the complex. His feet were kicked up on a chair he had dragged over from another area in the yard, a book was turned open in his lap, and a bottle of wine was hanging loosely in his right hand. He hadn't moved from that position since I came outside to join him. It was the first nice day of the year, but Grantaire didn't really seem to notice anything outside of his own little world. He'd been acting like this for the past couple of days. Going through the motions, here but not really here. It was terrible to live with him like this. Especially when he was my constant source of support and amusement, the only person who understood my trials and triumphs of living so close with Enjolras. But Grantaire had barely spoke a syllable since the other night, and it was starting to worry anyone who had ever heard him talk. He hadn't even left the house to go to a bar. He just got up, went to class, and came back. It wasn't living.

"At least he's not mad at you." I said softly after Grantaire thumbed the bottom of the page as if he was planning on turning it. I knew he wasn't going to, though.

He shot me a look, "I'd rather him be mad."

I nodded, not quite knowing what to say.

"I was stupid." He grunted as he whipped the bottle of wine at the sidewalk a few paces from us. The bottle smashed instantly, sending pieces of broken glass everywhere in the pool of red liquid as it ran. "I should have known better."

"No one blames you, Grantaire." I told him honestly.

"That's the problem, isn't it?" He laughed dryly. "They should all be furious at me, because I messed up such a simple task. But they all shrug it off, because it was expected." Grantaire glared down at his book. "Disappointed. I'd rather him be mad at me." I squeezed his knee consolingly. "You should have seen the look on his face, 'Ponine." The drunk moaned. "I thought the devil was sending me my very own fallen angel."

In case you hadn't guessed, Grantaire did not recruit anyone for Les Amis. He didn't even try. Like I had thought, he was prepared to get drunk the moment he entered the first bar. He had lied to Enjolras and told him that he ran into a man who owed him a drink, and he just couldn't let the man slip away before he got what was his. Of course, Enjolras could see right through the lie, and Grantaire knew Enjolras could see right through it but kept telling it. Enjolras found him at the first bar and at the tail end of a domino game. Grantaire said that Enjolras didn't even look at him when he walked in. He just went right to the bar, ordered a glass of water and cup of coffee, and then he waited for Grantaire's game to finish. Then after Grantaire had won half the pool, Enjolras sat by his side and waited for him to drink all the water and coffee while the patrons of the bar gathered up the drunk's earnings. And they left. In silence, Grantaire bitterly told me. Enjolras hadn't talked to him since, nor had he mentioned anything to me. It was probably a good thing, because as rude as it would have been, I would have said, "I told you so.". Still, though, the weeks were starting to drag on with their silence.

"You're not a lost..." My voice trailed off as I saw a woman walking towards us from the end of the courtyard. She looked so out of place, but she held her head high and acted like she did. I grinned. "Mama!" I gathered my skirts and rushed to her, throwing my arms around her neck and holding her tight. I let out a dry sob as she wrapped her arms around me, returning my hug with full force.

"Look at you." She whispered in awe, putting a hand on my slowly swelling abdomen. She held my face and kissed my cheeks over and over again. I felt Grantaire's presence behind us after he managed to draw himself over. "So tiny." We shared another tight embrace.

"What are you doing here?" I laughed, roughly wiping away some tears that had fallen.

She reached into her apron and pulled out a rolled piece of paper, "A man came by t'day lookin' for a favor." She told me.

"What kind of favor?"

"Jus' needin' someone to run this to a rebel withou' a cause." She rolled her eyes. "Yours' the only one I know." She handed over the paper. "'Zel was gonna do it, but I needed t'."

"Azelma's back at the Inn?" I asked in horror.

"By 'er own free will." Mama nodded. "Y'know 'Zel can't be 'ome anywhere but the Inn." Mama ran a hand softly over my cheek. "She's not you."

I squeezed mama's hand comfortingly, smiling at her all the while.

"Why would she want to go back to the God-awful place?" Grantaire shuddered before he could stop himself. Mama shot him a glare. "I beg your pardon, Madame. Your patrons have been very kind not to piss on me when I fall asleep near your Inn." She frowned at him, as did I.

"I brought this, too." She pulled out a blue bonnet next. "I kno' i's old, but I kep' it up for you."

It had been my bonnet, once upon a time. I smiled widely down at it. It had been my last Christmas gift before the Inn started really going downhill.

"I was plannin' on givin' it t'ya eventually." She laughed. "Thought it'd be earlier."

"Thank you, mama." I kissed her cheeks and hugged her again. "For both."

"I'll find your ol' blanket and bring it next week."

"I would love that." I said honestly. "We can have lunch." I added.

Mama nodded before departing. I watched her, until she was no longer in my line of vision, before unrolling the paper she had brought for the main purpose of her trek over here. It was a list of names. I frowned down at it. What was so important about a list of names. I skimmed over them. All it was was a bunch of names of men. Why in the world would Enjolras need-

"Grantaire!" I gasped when it clicked. I thrust the list at him. "Go take this to Enjolras!" Grantaire stared at the paper but didn't take it. "It can be your redemption, you stupid drunk." I snapped.

"What is it?" His eyes quickly skimmed it.

"One of the men who came to see Enjolras at the docks made it out." I pointed to his signature at the bottom. He had connections everywhere. "He left early, but he obviously heard something he liked."

Grantaire pointed to a few names, "They're in my university classes."

"Just go to the Musain and give it to him. If he says anything, tell him you got it from someone from the slums. It's not lying, so you should be able to relay that much, yeah?" Grantaire shrugged. "Grantaire, if he hasn't told you not to come back to the Musain, you're obviously still welcome there. So go. He's going to want to see that, and think how pleased he'll be when you bound in there with a list of names of men who will help your cause."

"His cause." Grantaire corrected.

"Whatever."

"You're too good to me, 'Ponine."

"You're too cruel to you."

The drunk kissed my cheek before hurrying away.

**I finally settled on how I'm going to end this entire fic; don't worry, there's still a while to go, though!**

**Please review and let me know your thoughts. I love hearing them:)**


	23. Bahorel

**I love you all. Your support...I have no words to describe it, so I'll just give you another chapter!**

**Another kind of short one. **

**So the thing with Cosette: She doesn't really remember Eponine, because she's kind of supressed those early memories; and Eponine doesn't remember Cosette, because she wasn't important enough to remember. I hope that makes sense. Both girls only have a faint 'I think I've met her before' feeling. **

**The thing with Enjolras: I started off with Ramin as my Enjolras, so I will end with Ramin as my Enjolras. It would bug me as the writer of this fic to switch. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate both Aaron and Ramin as individual performers, but I can't switch my muse up like that.**

**Eponine will be 24 weeks pregnant by the end of this chapter, and she's still relatively small. **

**Disclaimer: I own a purse.**

_5 June 1831_

Euphrasie, the girl from the market, followed me through the streets as we made our way back from spending as much as I could in good conscious on random decor and things to liven Grantaire's room up with. It was so bare in there. A reflection of the odd funk he was in. Things seemed to get better for a bit after he handed that list over to Enjolras, but in no time at all, Grantaire slipped back into whatever dark place he was trapped in. I even kept a close watch on the two of them, noting their interactions, but nothing Enjolras did seemed to give way to Grantaire's depression. Enjolras was even smiling at the drunk from time to time. Like actually smiling with teeth and eyes. I assumed his issues had to be Courfeyrac, then. Courfeyrac had everything Grantaire didn't; and I mean that in the nicest way possible. That theory was shot down at last night's dinner, though, when Grantaire and Courfeyrac had a right old time telling stories and giving an impromptu opera. They were both completely drunk, but the sincerity was all the same. So I enlisted the bubble of sunshine and rainbows to help me find things that would lighten Grantaire's mood in his sober hours.

I hated to admit it to Enjolras, or anyone for that matter, but I really enjoyed her company. She was so completely different from anyone I'd ever encountered that it was refreshing to have to challenge my state of being to interact with her. It was making me a better person. Besides, she told the craziest stories about love and happily ever after, and those made for the best jokes to tell Enjolras later. Her stories of her father were so far-fetched, too. It was like her life had been one adventure. I didn't really envy her for it. She never had a place to call home, had no clue who her real parents were, and had lived this isolated life. But I liked hearing the things she said. It made me feel more secure about my life. I had a place to call home. I had knowledge of my real parents. And I had never been short of friends or at least people to talk to. All she had was her father. And now me, I suppose. Then, for the sake of my ego, she loved telling me how lovely I looked. And I loved hearing how lovely I look. God knows I don't hear it from anyone else. Euphrasie was like a little ego booster. Her crappy life and constant compliments made me feel so much better. I'd definitely need her around when I'd get to be as big as a barn.

"I can't believe you live here." She breathed as I let us in the maisonette.

"From the stories you tell, I'm sure your papa can afford the finer things in life."

She made a motion that was like a shrug. "Papa's a simple man." She muttered.

"Ah," I groaned, walking into the parlor. Apparently company was accepted even when the household is out. "These are university students who I sometimes claim as friends." I stepped aside for Euphrasie to get a good look at the sorry lot. "_Messieurs _Combferre, Joly, and Prouvaire. _Mademoiselle _Fauchelevant." I waved a lazy hand at them. "What are you doing here?"

Euphrasie gave me a look of horror.

"We're baking." Combferre replied after niceties had been exchanged.

"Well, Grantaire is." Joly corrected.

"Trying to, at least." Prouvaire snickered, earning a smile from the other two.

Taking the things from Euphrasie and setting them by the steps, I dragged her behind me as I headed for the kitchen. Just our luck Grantaire would burn the entire maisonette down. Then he'd really be depressed, because I'd make sure he had one hell of a reason to mope about. As they said, Grantaire was there with some of the other school boys, staring warily at something on the counter. The front of Grantaire's clothing was matted with dough and flour, something was pasted on his face, and I'm sure there were ingredients in his hair. The other boys didn't look much better. Courfeyrac's dark hair took on an odd color from the amount of flour in it. I think an egg had been broken on his right shoulder, because something slick look like it had been dripping down from there. Bahorel and Bousset looked a mix between Grantaire's total disaster and Courfeyrac's relatively unscathed.

"'Ponine!" Bousset jumped at my sudden appearance, stumbling back into the table and sending the flour and wine toppling to the ground. Of course the boys let him in the kitchen. Of course. Well, I sure wasn't picking anything up.

"Oh, hey, girl." Grantaire mumbled, still entranced by whatever that _thing _on the counter was.

"Don't call me that." I snapped.

He glanced over at me and did a double take at the sight of the blonde next to me. "Oh good, you have a maid. We made a bit of a mess in here and don't have time to clean it up."

"You better find time." I scoffed. "She's not a maid, she's a friend."

"You made a friend?" Grantaire frowned. I frowned back at all of them as they looked between her and I. Like I couldn't break bread with the upper crust. I put my hands on my hips and leveled the cattle with a look. "Forgive me, _Mademoiselle_. I tend to forget 'Ponine here is capable of being sweet."

Euphrasie gave me a look. "Yes, this is Grantaire." I clarified. "Then Courfeyrac, Bahorel, and Bousset."

"Oh!" Grantaire turned away completely from the thing. "You're the girl from the market." She nodded. "It's a pleasure to meet you. If I'd known you were coming, I'd have made a bigger cake," That's what that _thing _was? "But I'm sure one of the boys wouldn't mind giving their portion to you."

"I'm sorry," She glanced about the boys nervously. "I'm just here to help Eponine. I had no intention of staying for dinner." And I really didn't intend on inviting her. Or the rest of the ABC for that matter.

"The more the merrier." Courfeyrac grinned and the others agreed.

"What are you even doing here?" I bit.

"For Enjolras' birthday, of course!" Bahorel laughed.

I paled. Noticeably, apparently, because Courfeyrac's grin turned into a quizzical look, "You didn't know?"

"Oh!" Grantaire laughed. "I was supposed to tell you that, too, the other night." He glanced at me sheepishly. "Surprise?"

I glared at him.

"You don't know your own husband's birthday?" Euphrasie asked.

"They're not married." Bousset chuckled, but the blonde blushed furiously.

"Come on, Euphrasie," I tugged on her sleeve determinedly, although I was a chaotic mess on the inside. "Grantaire, make sure this gets cleaned up, or I'll get rid of every last drop of alcohol in this place. You got me?" Grantaire laughed like I was joking for a minute, but he shut up instantly when the sober part of his brain realized I was being serious.

"How does it look in there?" Joly asked as we reemerged.

"Bousset's gone and burnt his hand." I lied just to watch Doctor Joly jump into unnecessary action. "It looks really bad. He may need to be taken to the hospital." As expected, Joly scrambled to his feet and booked it to the kitchen.

"That wasn't very nice." The blonde mumbled under her breath and to the side, as if the boys wouldn't notice. Combferre and Prouvaire smiled at her demure, they were so unused to it. "I should really be going back to the square, Eponine." She added after a glance out at the setting sun. "Papa will be worried if I'm not back before dark. You know how he gets."

"I can walk her there." Prouvaire offered. "I have to go collect Enjolras from the Musain anyway, and the square is on the way. If it's alright with you two?" He looked at Euphrasie for permission, and she looked to me.

"That's alright." I waved my hand dismissively. "I can take her, and I'll go get your fearless leader. You two can go help clean my kitchen up. We'll call it even."

"I don't even use your kitchen." He pointed out.

"Come now, Jehan, your ass is permenantly molded into that spot." Combferre winked at me. "You might as well help clean the kitchen to apologize for the large indent in the nice furniture."

Prouvaire frowned at him, "My butt is not that big." He was saying as I lead my new friend away.

After Euphrasie had been dropped off, and I had waited around in the back room of the cafe for Enjolras to finish his homework, we were off again to the maisonette just as the sun was dipping lower into the horizon. It was a quite walk. We didn't hold hands, but we weren't more than a foot away from each other. We didn't talk, but we weren't searching for words to break the silence. It was comfortable. We just kept pace with each other and took in the darkening sky. Also, I didn't want to bring up his birthday. If he didn't tell me, surely he had a good enough reason. It may not seem like it, but he told all sorts of useless and random information. I could tell you when the first time he broke his arm was and when he decided red was his favorite color. I didn't know his birthday, though. There was a reason behind it. I'm sure. I didn't want him to know I knew his birthday either. I didn't want him to feel obligated to tell me. But we were having a child together. Shouldn't I know his birthday? He had to know that we couldn't go a year without me wondering when he was brought into the world when bringing a life into the world was something very real for us.

"Why didn't you tell me it was your birthday?" I spat out, unable to control my mouth. It was a real problem.

Enjolras look startled for a moment before regaining his solidity. "It's hardly anything to celebrate." He shrugged it off. "I'm just one year closer to death."

"You're so positive." I rolled my eyes.

"I suppose I'll be walking into a house full of Les Amis and Grantaire's sad excuse for a birthday cake?"

"For their sake, you better be walking into a clean kitchen." I muttered. "How can you think I wouldn't want to know when your birthday is? You know when mine is. Shouldn't I be afforded the same right to know when yours is?"

He looked at me for a couple of seconds, "I'm sorry, I didn't know it was that important to you."

"Of course it is," I said as we turned a corner but came to a stop, trying to articulate why I was upset he didn't tell me. "I know Grantaire and Courfeyrac's birthday. I even know Prouvaire's birthday, and you know very well I can't stand him half of the time." Enjolras wasn't following. I could tell by the look on his face. "What I'm saying is that none of them-okay, well, maybe Grantaire-mean half as much to me as you do," I turned my eyes to the ground. I could hold his gaze like the best of them, but this was different. "I want to be with you, and I want to know the things couples know about each other. I wanted to do something special for you to let you know how special you are to me." It came out as demurely as I was capable of being.

Enjolras' hand was on my cheek. An action that surprised me, but I refused to show how much so.

"Eponine," He whispered as his thumb smoothed itself over my cheekbone. "You're carrying my child, supporting my cause, and caring for my best friend as though it is your job." He kissed my forehead. "To ask anything trivial of you would dropping a brick on a stack of cards."

"I'm not fragile, Enjolras."

"You're caring and passionate, and I would never do anything to take advantage of those characteristics." He paused for a little while. "You mean too much to me to be pushed to the brink."

I went to kiss his cheek, something I knew he was okay with in public; but he caught my lips, and I know he didn't know how light headed it made me. Public display of affection, verbal and physical? I wasn't so sure it wasn't _my _birthday.

"I still wanted to get you something." I said dejectedly after we had started walking again, closer together this time.

Enjolras was quiet again, this time thinking before finally, "You can do something for me." He said as we came to our building. His voice was so soft, but it was still confident. Yet, a little uncertain. It was the first time I'd ever heard him take on that tone.

"Anything." I nodded.

"It's not really something that can be put in action today, but it could be promised today." I nodded again. "There'll be a time when I need you to do something for me without back talk or cheating. I'll ask you something, and I'll need you to do just as I say." And uneasy feeling washed over me, and I knew he could see it on my face. "Can you do that for me?" He asked, taking my hands in his.

I stared down at them, "Enjolras..."

"I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important, but it is. And this...this is the only thing I could ever think to ask of you." He kissed my cheek, and I was starting to wonder if he was using these displays of affection to get what he wanted. "Please."

"I just have a bad feeling."

"Nothing bad will come of it."

"That's easy for you to say when you're trying to get what you want."

"'Ponine," He dropped my hands but held my gaze. "There was a time when my only love was my _patria_," Enjolras' eyes were so intense, I almost dropped the eye contact. I couldn't, though. "But another love has clearly entered." Was this Enjolras-speak for 'I love you'? I think it was. "I wouldn't be able to live with myself is something happened that I could have prevented. Please. It's all I ask of you."

"I'll never forgive you if you go and get yourself killed." I told him seriously.

"I have no intention." He promised.

I kissed him, and he let me, but I had a feeling Grantaire's thoughts were closer to the truth.

.

I stared in horror down at Enjolras and Grantaire sitting on the parlor's floor. The drunk's head was in Enjolras' lap as Enjolras slumped against the wall next to his bookshelf and rubbed Grantaire's back soothingly. All of the color that normally occupied Grantaire's face was absent and the dark circles under his eyes looked more like bruises than anything. The basin next to them was full of whatever Enjolras had managed to force out of the drunk, but there were splotches surrounding it that didn't quite make it into the basin. Bahorel was still at the base of the stairs, pale and sharing my expression with a much more grave undertone. Having been there when it all took place to begin with, he had images that would forever be burned in his mind. For all of us watching Grantaire, though, it was his sobs that had us chilled to the bone on the relatively warm June night.

Enjolras and I had been moving things around in the nursery when we heard Bahorel shouting from downstairs for us. Begging for us to be home. I'd never heard Bahorel be anything but happy or ready for a fight, so hearing the scared edge to his voice was enough to frighten me. We had dropped whatever we were holding and hurried downstairs. Bahorel was supporting Grantaire's drunk weight at the bottom of the steps, his eyes were wide as he looked at us with a mix of relief and consternation. Enjolras was barreling down the steps before I could even blink to comprehend what was happening. He was quick on his feet and quick to think, grabbing Grantaire away from Bahorel and sinking to the ground. He patted Grantaire's cheeks softly at first, and then with a little more firmness, trying to wake the drunk from whatever stupor had taken over him. Grantaire's eyes rolled a lot as he tried to focus in on the face to match the voice, but whatever alcohol he had consumed was fighting, and winning, for dominance. It was an awful thing to see. Finally, Enjolras barked for Bahorel to grab a basin from the kitchen; and when he came back, Grantaire forcibly purged whatever he could with Enjolras' help.

"I'm sorry." He had cried in between heaves.

"You always are." Enjolras answered later as the horror passed. Grantaire's breathing was even now, and his eyes were shut in his drunken slumber, light snores escaping. Bahorel leaned against the wall, rubbing his face roughly with his hands. "I'll clean him up and get him to bed." Enjolras muttered as he maneuvered the himself up off the ground, dragging Grantaire with him.

"Would it be too much to ask for a cup of coffee?" Bahorel asked me quietly.

"Of course not." I assured him weakly, squeezing his arm to add the extra sincerity my voice was incapable of coming up with.

Enjolras paused as he reached the bottom of the steps before I lead Bahorel into my kitchen, "Do what we talked about." He told me.

"Enjolras-"

"I said, do it, Eponine."

I stared at him for a moment before blinking and then going on into the kitchen without a word.

"What happened?" I asked Bahorel when we were alone in the kitchen as I fiddled with the hot water.

"A few of us were down at the Musain, you know." He shrugged half-heartedly. "Blowing off some steam from exams and whining about girls who wouldn't jump our bones." I nodded sympathetically. It happened quite often, more than any of them cared to admit. "'nd 'Taire was jus' fine." I turned to face him when his voice got thick. I wasn't use to Bahorel choking up. He rubbed his face roughly again, staring up at the ceiling before going on with control over his voice. "We were all just having a great time. It's been a while, you know. Since things with the revolution have really gone into intense planning and whatnot. Between schoolwork and revolution work, no work is hard to come by. But, no offense, things were mellow with Enjolras over here. Your sister came by, though." We sighed at the same time.

"Azelma." I groaned as if it explained it all.

Bahorel nodded, "That's when big boy started tipping the bottles back alarmingly. Don't get me wrong, I'm not attacking your sister or anything; and I honestly don't think she knew what she was doing to Grantaire, but everyone else did. We don't really know what went on between them, but obviously it's a little unnerving watching your _ami _have his mouth spelunked by your ex-lover."

"That's an awful picture."

"Now, you know I can empty those bottles with the best of them." I snickered. That was an understatement. "But 'Taire was downing them like his life depended on it. So we did what we thought was best for the situation: Told Courf and 'Zelma to cool it, and Jehan cut Grantaire off for the night." Bahorel rolled his eyes. "Obviously that didn't work."

"So he left?" I went back to finishing up his coffee. If Grantaire wasn't going to get alcohol from the Musain, he'd find other cafes to serve him.

"Yeah." Bahorel's voice was thick again. I didn't look back when he remained quiet, he was gathering himself. He spoke again, though, when I placed a mug of coffee in front of him. I watched him intently as he stared down at the black liquid. "I found him arguing with the side of a building in some alley." I would have been funny if it wasn't so awful. "He thought he was conversing with Greek Gods." Bahorel tugged roughly at his thick head of hair, messing it even more. "I've never seen him so out of it. I didn't think your sister meant that much."

"Yeah." I whispered, even though I knew Azelma was only a pebble in the mountain of Grantaire's problems.

"So," The cattle at my kitchen table looked around, desperate to shake the heavy topic. "What's Enj got you doin'?"

I glanced over at the wine rack. "He wants me to dump all the alcohol. We talked briefly about doing it if Grantaire were to ever get out of hand..." I trailed off.

"I'd be happy to help." He rubbed his stomach. "Got a liver of steel."

"We'll do Grantaire no good if we force him to quit cold." I tried my argument with this one. So far, Enjolras, Combferre, and Courfeyrac had refused to believe me. I bet I could get Bahorel, Prouvaire, and Bousset on my side. Fueilly and Joly were anyone's guess. Marius would probably kiss Enjolras' ass. "Think about it," I told him. "Grantaire's been drinking longer than anyone has known him, and he's been drinking heavily at that. If we completely cut him off, his body is going to go beserk, and something seriously wrong could happen." Mama and I saw it all the time with old hags and their husbands at the Inn.

"He could go mad."

Score! "Exactly."

"What about just getting rid of the heavy liquor?" Bahorel looked around the kitchen again. "You could keep out one or two wine bottles a day, but nothing more than that. So you're cutting him off without leaving him dry. We all know Grantaire has some serious issues, and Enjolras just has a more...radical way of forcing Grantaire to confront them." He grinned.

"I've come to find I don't particularly like it when you grin, Bahorel."

"There's someone you can send for."

"Like a miracle worker?" I snorted. That's what we'd need to come to a compromise.

"Not quite." His grin was growing more and more wicked by the second. "Enjolras won't be terribly pleased."

"I'm listening." I hadn't rearranged any furniture in a while.

I was long overdue to do something.

**Next: Some old characters return. Some canon characters are written. Some girls fight. **

**Please review:)**


	24. Azelma

**This was originally part of the bigger chapter, but I'm changing things up in it, and this wouldn't work. So it's its own chapter and an early update! Yay?**

**It's a lot going on.  
><strong>

**Disclaimer:...**

"I don't think I have." Enjolras told me, feeling along his waist line and other areas.

"Your pants still fit the same way they always have?"

He gave me a skeptical look.

"Maybe you're mistaken?" Euphrasie offered.

"I'm not."

"It simply can't be!" I huffed, handing him another book. "The morning sickness means girl; but your lack of sympathy weight means boy. Wait, has Grantaire packed on any extra weight?"

"He's losing weight." Enjolras grimaced.

"Oh, I know!" I gasped. "Whip out your-"

I didn't get to finish my sentence, but the possibility of where it was going had Enjolras and Euphrasie blushing furiously as Azelma burst through the front door and down the hall to flop onto our couch. Enjolras' blush didn't stay long, and his expression faded into a mix of exasperated and curious. We had both debated on changing the locks to the maisonette, to stop all the unwanted foot traffic we'd been getting over the past couple of weeks. But apparently we didn't know what was good for us, and we decided to keep the locks as they were. For some God unknown reason, we liked the company who walked into the place. I placed the blame on the baby making me make irrational decisions, but Enjolras was convinced I was harboring a secret soft spot for all Les Amis and their associated acts. Including my crying sister, ruining the nice fabric of my parlor's couch. Enjolras stared at Azelma for a moment before looking up at me with a lost look to him. I had to do everything around here.

"'Zel," I cooed, sitting next to her gingerly. Enjolras kept a close eye on us. "What's wrong?"

She shook her head, causing Enjolras to roll his eyes.

"You can tell us."

"Courfeyrac!" Azelma cried into her arms, her shoulders shaking with her sobs.

Enjolras motioned for Euphrasie to follow him into the kitchen as I tried pulling Azelma together enough to tell me what she was talking about. Azelma sightings had been less common than Grantaire sightings, and that was really saying something. The only time Enjolras saw Grantaire was at cattle herdings, and I only saw him when he came back from those meetings. Grantaire had an excuse, though. He was actively, and successfully, avoiding me and Enjolras like we had consumption or something terrible malady. Azelma was just breezy. Hell, I'm sure I even saw Prouvaire more than I had seen my own sister. I was lucky if I caught a glimpse of Azelma every ten days or so. But most of the time she was off gallivanting with Courfeyrac, or prepping herself for Courfeyrac, or living to see Courfeyrac next. I liked to argue that she was worse than me with Marius. To which Enjolras snorts and busies himself with a book. Every damn time. Azelma was here now, though, and I had half a mind to lock her out of the outside world until she told me what was happening. Although, it really didn't take a genius. Nothing good can come of devoting that much time and energy into one man. One cattle.

"A girl!" She managed to choke out between sobs. Well, obviously. Azelma wouldn't be wailing on my couch is some pretty lady or lad hadn't caught the flirt's eye. I patted her back comfortingly all the same.

"Azelma," I said calmly after several minutes passed with only her sobs for noise. "If you don't tell me what is going on, I'm going to kick you out of my maisonette and lock the door behind you." I used the calmest voice I was capable of.

Her head shot up, and she blinked at me like she couldn't decide if I was joking or not. I wasn't. I really didn't have the patience. Grantaire and the sober up plan were trying me.

"He's such a sweet man, you know." She mumbled, looking down at her hands. Sure. Once you got past the fact that he wasn't. Her bottom lip quivered as she went on, "And he's just so sweet to everyone." Azelma's tears poured down, and I could feel worry start to set in. What if he had done something to seriously break her heart? I would kick his ass before any revolution could. "I was coming to see him at school, and-" And Euphrasie's light laughter stopped Azelma dead in her tracks.

"Oh, no, _Monsieur_." The blonde was smiling at Enjolras as they exited with cups full of tea and finger snacks.

Azelma's blotchy face and bloodshot eyes lit up instantaneously. I frowned over at the couple with the food.

"Where's your mum?" My sister asked quietly. Enjolras shared my frown as Euphrasie reacted oddly to Azelma's question. The blonde, who was already pale to begin with, seemed to lose several shades just from those three words. "Where's your mum?"

I wasn't even sure how to act. I'd never seen Euphrasie as anything but happy. Now she looked like a scared doe.

"Where's your mum?" Azelma's demeanor took on one of a predator circling its prey as she rose from the couch. Euphrasie's gaze flickered over to me.

Poor Enjolras. He was so lost the second I gasped.

"Where's your mum, Cosette?" Azelma smirked wickedly.

"Shut up, Azelma!" I snapped.

The blonde's eyes were wide in fear and tears were starting to pool as she thrust the tray into Enjolras' hands and ran, mumbling a quick, "I have to go," as she did. Azelma lept past to chase after the terrified girl, but I caught her by the elbow. Neither of us moved, just stared at each other as we tried to figure where the other was coming from.

"What was that about?" Enjolras broke the silence.

"What is your problem?" I barked, completely ignoring him.

"Mine?" Azelma scoffed. "You're lucky I don't tell papa what kind of company you're keeping!"

"The company I keep is none of his business!" I bit.

"Neither of you need to involve your-"

"Like hell it ain't!" Azelma laughed humorlessly. "That old con still owes a killing on her! We wouldn't be dead broke if he wasn't such a cheap old man! Papa and mama let her go for a song, and it's time he settles a debt."

"They let her go, because they're greedy fools!"

"You'll call attention to the place if you two-"

"What was she doing here?"

"Euphrasie?" Enjolras was determined to make his way into this conversation.

"Euphrasie?" Azelma wrinkled her nose at Enjolras. "Oh, Euphrasie, that's cute." She cackled like father often did. It sent a cold chill over my body.

"For the love of God," Azelma sneered at the sound of the next voice. Oh, yeah, I should have mentioned it sooner. "I can't even hear myself think with all this racket."

"Are you kidding me?" Azelma looked at me incredulously. I shrugged.

"Oh, Enjolras, I thought we took the trash out this morning?"

"Be nice, Elle." Enjolras warned his sister.

"What is she doing here?" Azelma and Elle had a good glaring match going on. Again, poor Enjolras.

"She's Grantaire's sober up plan." I mumbled dejectedly.

"Grantaire doesn't need to sober up, he needs to grow up."

Elle laughed, "Coming from the twelve year old!"

"I'm eighteen!" Azelma exclaimed.

"You're irrelevant." Elle was great at being menacing while remaining statuesque. It was a Durand thing.

"Eponine." Enjolras looked at me expectantly.

I nodded, "Azelma, let's go." I lead her roughly towards the door. "I fear you've overstayed your welcome." I added quietly, holding the door open.

"Are you serious?" She stared blankly at me. "Just because I upset some stupid rich kids and your drunk pet?"

"I'll see you around, 'Zel." I sighed, closing the door on her.

Enjolras and Elle were poking around the finger foods when I walked back in.

"Some kind of Thenardier you are!" Azelma's shrill cry came from the hall. I rolled my eyes and took a fruit Elle was offering.

Her brother shrugged nonchalantly as he picked up two of the cups. Stating, "I suppose we'll just make an date for your to take my name," before leaving to take Elle's empty spot with Grantaire.

**So?:)**

**Elle being back will make more sense next chapter!**

**Please leave me a review. I really do love your support:)**


	25. Musichetta

**Happy weekend!**

**Lots of fun stuff! **

Joly was a surprisingly sexual man. It was all speculation, of course, but I speculated that he was a very sexual human being. He was like a little kitten when you met him during the day. He was quite possibly the sweetest man I had ever met: He went out of his way to make sure Grantaire and I were in good condition with our respective conditions; he spent extra hours with Enjolras so that the latter would know what to do in case of an emergency; he never spoke ill of anyone, even if they deserved it; and everything he did, he did it with a smile and free of any charge. I just didn't understand how someone could be that nice of a person. But that was beside the point. I was convinced he was a little minx. Several times I saw him and Bousset walking home together, drunk and sober, with actions that would make most people blush (they would probably give Enjolras a heart attack). That would be all fine and dandy, though, if it hadn't been for the girl he toted around during the day. She was pretty little thing, sweet as a peach, and practically made for Joly. Her name was Musichetta. I'd met her several times but hadn't interacted with her enough to pass an honest judgement. I didn't know what dear Joly was up to, but I had a feeling it was both Joly and his sweet peach.

His peach was sitting on the ground in front of me and Elle as Elle taught me how to style hair into simple dos. Musichetta didn't really have much of a choice. She turned up at the maisonette with Joly when the minx came over to meet with some of the Amis already congregated here. Elle had been talking to Prouvaire about certain braiding styles that I needed to know, especially if my child would be a girl (according to Elle), and poor little Musichetta walked in at the wrong moment with the right hair. For her part, she took it fine. Just sat on the floor silently as Elle and Prouvaire explained twists and weaves while I completely butchered the braid.

"It doesn't look," Prouvaire paused, "awful." He ended quizzically.

"I'm sorry, Musichetta." I mumbled.

"For your first time braiding, I'm sure it's fine." The peach smiled warmly at me.

"Don't cushion it." Elle bit at both of them. "'Ponine, this looks like I tried braiding it with one hand. No, actually, that's an insult to my skill. This looks like the wind tried braiding her hair."

"I'm fairly certain Zephyrus and Boreas would have done a better job." Prouvaire tried hiding his laugh with a cough.

"Don't you have some flowers to smell or dust to glorify?" I snapped. I really didn't care for him.

"Jehan," Feuilly popped into the room, coming from Enjolras' study. "We're going to find students in the Fine Arts' building to scout." Prouvaire left for the kitchen to gather his things. Feuilly smiled at us lightly. "Enjolras figured he was driving you nuts." He explained.

"You're a saint." I told him, so close to being honest.

He laughed, "Hardly."

The two of them left quickly, holding some papers Enjolras gave them, no doubt. A comfortable silence settled over Elle, Musichetta, and myself as we waited for inspiration to strike one of us. Elle and Musichetta started up some conversation about some fashion trend that was taking over Paris at the moment. I didn't know what the hell any of their jargon meant. It probably made me a pervert, but I dropped an ear into their volleying when I caught Musichetta say something about Joly.

"It must be so strange to have Lesgle there all the time, though." Elle said, frowning down at something on her dress. So she missed Musichetta's blush, but I didn't.

"Don't Joly and Bousset share a garret, though?" I asked.

"They share a lot of things." Musichetta mumbled.

"What was that?" Elle looked up.

"Joly and Bousset," She shrugged, deceptively nonchalant. "They share a lot of things."

"It must be a male thing." Elle chuckled. "For the entire time I've known Enjolras and Grantaire, ideals are the only thing they don't share."

"And Eponine." Musichetta added.

"Not from what Grantaire says." I rolled my eyes at Elle's comment.

"I care deeply for both," I clarified for the peach. "Just not in the same way. Grantaire's my other half, and Enjolras is-"

"The love of your life." Elle finished. I shrugged this time.

Musichetta got quiet, which got Elle curious. "How much do they share?" Elle's sharp blue eyes were trained so intensely on Musichetta, I couldn't believe that the girl didn't burst under the pressure. "You may as well just confess, you're hardly in the company of saints."

It was true.

"It's just," Musichetta inhaled deeply. "Let's just say, Joly's hypochondria is the only thing Bousset doesn't share."

I knew it!

Elle's eyebrows shot up, but she nodded. "So maybe his complete unluckiness is just karma for his complete luck in other areas."

Musichetta laughed, "Maybe so." Another silence settled before Musichetta felt comfortable enough to bring a topic to light that had been avoided by most, "If you don't mind me asking, why are you here?" She asked Elle.

"You know how in the East," Elle said after trying to find the words to correctly explain the situation. "There are men who can charm a snake out a basket with their music?" Musichetta's eyes at that. I rolled my eyes. She probably thought she would get lucky enough to see those men one day. Newsflash, peach, you're lover boy won't set foot in a country where a whole new degree of diseases are waiting for him. "I can charm a sober from a drunk." That's sugar coating it.

"How?"

Elle smirked, admiring her nails, "I find I can be very persuasive."

"Are you bribing him sexually?"

Elle laughed a pretty laugh. It almost made me forget what a bitch she actually was. "Grantaire wants nothing a lady has to offer."

"Yes," Musichetta's smile was just short of endearing. "Joly always worries that the man will end up dying in some ditch with a disease he's caught from one of the street rats." She paused. "I mean no offense, Eponine." I waved my hand, none taken; and Elle let out a howl of laughter. It really wasn't that funny. But Elle was a terrible person who found amusement in other people's ignorance. That's why I kept my curiosity hidden behind my closed mouth. See, I was learning a lot.

"You're too precious." Elle managed between peels of laughter. "For someone so lived, you're still so innocent." The light caught Elle's dark hair in a certain way that illuminated the sides of her crown, giving her the appearance of light-trick horns. How fitting, I thought.

Musichetta let the conversation drop, and I didn't dare pick it back up, so we settled into another comfortable silence. We could hear the boys in the other room: Arguing with each other, laughing at something, shouting words that seemed random to us, and encouraging Enjolras' silly fantasy about this revolution that was blinding them all. And as the words of revolution left the confines of the room more frequently, the comfortable silence among us was chased away. Elle started frowning down at her lap while her fingers twirled strands of her hair absently. Musichetta, who had been sucking her stomach in and seeing how long she could last with held breath, stopped fussing over the pudge she carried and started biting her nails. I noticed it all. I noticed all their movements, noticed the way my baby had began to squirm, and I noticed the heavy air that came with revolution talk. It was tense. It was unnerving. It was deadly. It was death.

"Do you think they know?" Musichetta's voice was broken and a shell of the lively woman who had walked in hours ago.

"No." Elle answered without a thought. "Of course they don't."

"Don't you think they should?"

"Grantaire knows." I muttered.

"And yet he stays?"

"Am I crazier for staying or going?" I'd refuse to admit that I jumped at the sound of Grantaire's unexpected voice.

Just like that, Elle was up and hanging onto his arm, as if she really was sexually involved with him. "Oh, my darling, you're crazy regardless." She grinned at him and wiped away something from the corner of his mouth before placing a kiss on his cheek. "Eponine here was just going to walk Musichetta back home since the boys will be playing a while longer." I was going to do what? "I was thinking she may need a gentleman to walk her, but Enjolras is otherwise occupied. Can you make believe for a little bit?"

Grantaire stared at her for a moment. Elle, with a bittersweet smile on her face, returned his gaze without blinking. These facial expressions were so dominant in the Durand blood that I wondered if my baby would be born with one that his relatives had learned to own so well. Sometimes I hoped that he would, but other times I couldn't even imagine raising a child who was so confusingly expressive. Enjolras and Elle mastered looks that could freeze or burn, so extreme, and I was afraid that my child wouldn't know the middle ground between radical emotions. It was a silly thing to worry about. Enjolras and Elle turned out how they did because of the parents they had and the situations they were dumped into. My child would not be raised by Jean and Christelle, nor would he have to go through life with a silver spoon sticking out of his front pocket. Still, though, there was a part of me that feared that the looks were genetic. Maybe I'd have Musichetta bring it up to Joly. He'd think she's pregnant and freak out, and I would get the information I wanted. It was an all over win for me. Winning and having fun at it.

"Yeah, of course." Grantaire's smile didn't quite reach his eyes.

"I really enjoyed today." Musichetta told me as we walked through the streets. Grantaire followed wordlessly behind us, and Musichetta talked to me while greeting people who passed her on the street. She was such a sweet person. Honestly sweet.

"I feel cheated that Joly's kept you hidden from all of us." I replied.

Grantaire snorted from behind us.

"Oh, I don't care much for revolution talk." Musichetta shrugged. "I'm sure if I went to one of those meetings, I'd never be able to keep my cynicism to myself."

"Actually," Grantaire broke in quietly. "Girls aren't allowed in the meetings. Eponine sort of just shows up without the intention of leaving." I nodded in agreement. No one would kick me out before Enjolras, because they all felt sorry for me. And now no one kicked me out, because I was carrying Enjolras' baby. I knew how to cheat the system. "But if you don't care much for being told to leave by a man of marble, I'd really enjoy the company of another cynic."

She smiled at him as she giggled. "You don't believe in the cause?"

"Joly hasn't mentioned?" Grantaire looked at her skeptically.

"I never thought he was serious." Musichetta ignored a man who called for her. "Like I said, I don't see the point in going if you're not there for the ideas that are the foundation."

"The ideals aren't the foundation, _Mademoiselle._"

My gaze flickered over to the recovering alcoholic, and I felt a strange sensation run through me. But I refused to give it any sort of attention. It was nothing. So I started prying information about Musichetta's love life from her. She blushed, either from the public setting or the relation itself, as she reluctantly confessed to me and Grantaire. I didn't let her or the drunk see how surprised I actually was to learn how long she had been involved with Joly. And Bousset. Together. All three of them. She said they'd known each other since before puberty, and she had always had a crush on Bousset, but her parents and Joly's parents had this idea that the two of them would be together. I guess their parents were lifelong friends, and what could be better than hitching together your children? Lucky for them, it worked out. Sort of.

Now, I'm no innocent little angel, but I had a little trouble wrapping my head around how the three of them decided, '_Yes, let's all be together in every since of the word_,'. I get prickled whenever some urchin on the street stared at Enjolras longer than socially acceptable. These three, though, they would have had to endure that before and during their relationship. As we headed down a less crowded road, Musichetta told us that things sort of went underway over a summer trip to the countryside. It was originally intended to be just for her and Joly's family, but Bousset's family needed a break from him (Musichetta refused to delve into that, so I made a mental note to warm up to the klutz), so he ended up tagging along with Joly.

"They ignored me for the better half of a month," She rolled her eyes as she thought back on it. "I was so upset. They were out gallivanting, doing God knows what, and I was stuck inside practicing my scales and footwork."

"Don't tell me," Grantaire snickered, "They were partaking in a little afternoon delight in the meadow." He fell into a fit of giggles until Musichetta's sharp glare cut him off. "Oh."

"Oh!" They were!

"So then what?" Grantaire asked, completely interested.

"So then I did what any woman who found her betrothed playing doctor with her crush would do." I hid my cackles behind my hand. It's funny, because Joly wants to be a doctor. "I told them that one of them was mine, or I'd make sure they'd never be anyone's."

"Charming."

"I was crushed." Musichetta didn't seem too bothered by it now. "Obviously things worked out, but not in the beginning. I ended up getting Joly." She continued after pointing us in a new direction. "I kept him with me by lying to him and saying that I heard Bousset's mother talking with mine about all these symptoms her son started showing. It drove him mad but kept him in my arms."

"You seemed so sweet."

She rolled her eyes again, "Joly stopped talking about him after a while, so it was just the two of us. And then I ran into Bousset outside of the square one week when Joly was out of town with his father." She laughed softly and looked down at the ground, her eyes shining at the memory. "You know how old crushes die hard." I could see the light pink stain her cheeks. "Neither of us had much of a moral compass that week; and I suppose it was very selfish of me, but I didn't want it to end. So Bousset and I were sitting in Joly's room when he finally returned. You should have seen the look on Joly's face when he saw us."

"I imagine he was a bit horrified." I mumbled. If she'd been telling the boy that Bousset was diseased...

"Somewhat." Musichetta agreed. "Can you close your eyes for a moment?" She asked after stopping us. Grantaire frowned at me and Musichetta before obliging. I followed. "Picture yourself: You're tired, you're feeling lower than grime, and you're just ready to collapse and never wake up. You're just dead to the world exhausted and disillusioned. Then you open a door, though, and-"

"You're home." Grantaire finished for her.

"Yeah." She was beaming when I opened my eyes. I trudged after her while she and Grantaire started walking with so much pep in each step. "Obviously things were awkward at first. Joly was open to our idea, though, and after a few months, things just worked. Of course, we bicker constantly, but at the end of the day, we love each other and we're home." She nodded confidently. "I've never wanted more or less for five years."

Grantaire let out a low whistle.

"Commitment." He shook his head. "Idealism."

"Every cynic has something in their life making it worth living." Musichetta told him. "Well," She sighed, looking up as a brick building between two fancy shops. "This is me. I really appreciate the company you've given me." Grantaire kissed her cheeks, and then the peach latched herself onto me like consumption on whores. "We'll work on that braiding technique next time. Maybe Jehan will let us work with his hair." I crinkled my nose. "He's really quite lovely." She giggled and blew us a kiss before disappearing inside the building.

"I always thought..." Grantaire started but trailed off.

"I had a feeling about Joly." I nodded.

"But Bousset is lucky with nothing."

"He sprained an ankle when I hugged him one time."

"He tripped over a chair when a whore blew him a kiss."

We were quiet for a bit, playing all of Bousset's injuries in our head. Surely he's going to live a short life for this. Not because he's doing anything wrong. Or maybe he is. But who am I to judge? With his history of luck, or lack thereof, he was bound to have something horrible in his future. I frowned as we reached the main street. Perhaps the revolution.

"You're looking good." Grantaire patted my arm awkwardly after a while. We'd passed the street the maisonette was on, but neither of us had made any motion to go home. He laughed when I told him he was looking better. "Got me a healthy dose of Elle." He scratched the back of his neck.

"Why Elle?" I asked him.

I just pretended to be in the know whenever people saw her. Pretending made me feel in control of the situation that was happening under my own roof. Honestly, though, all I was was Bahorel's word that Elle was Grantaire's life raft. And he was right. I mean, Grantaire hadn't completely sobered up. He's come home drunk more than one night since she got here, but he's been sober a lot more than he's been wasted. Obviously, Elle refused to tell me. I don't think I'd quite believe her if she ever did tell me anything, but I knew they shared something that gave her Grantaire's unwavering trust. Bahorel said he knew some of whatever it was, but not enough to be of any use to Grantaire. I didn't like not knowing. I didn't like that Grantaire had a secret when everything about me was written behind his lids.

I grabbed Grantaire's sleeve and pulled us to a stop. "You can talk to me, Grantaire." I whispered. "I love you."

He grinned wide and squeezed my hand comfortingly before kissing my cheek, "You know the effect those Durands have." He winked with an uncharacteristically superficial chuckle.

"You promise you'll talk to me? I'm here for you, and I want to help you." I told him earnestly.

"You know I will."

I knew he was lying.

**Thoughts on Grantaire? Musichetta? Amis you can't wait to see?  
><strong>

**Please review!**


	26. Prouvaire

**This isn't very long either. **

**Quick note: Not capitalizing 'mama' or 'papa' in Eponine's narrative is intentional.**

**Eponine is 27 weeks pregnant. Showing!**

_25 June 1831_

"Bousset! We have a bathroom!"

"Sorry."

"What are you even doing here?"

"Sorry."

I frowned at the Amis on my couch, guiltily withdrawing his hand from under the covers. I was very much afraid that he was going to wipe it on his clothes or on my couch, but he held it up awkwardly and managed to sit up without fracturing a rib. Elle, looking at him with a mix of disgust and bemusement, left and came back quickly with a rag from the kitchen. The unfortunate cattle wiped his hands off, staring intently at the work he was doing so he wouldn't have to look us in the eye. Even when he gave the rag back, he just held it blindly in front of him until Elle snatched it away between her thumb and forefinger. I bit back a smirk for Bousset's sake.

"But, honestly, what are you doing here?" I asked, turning around to busy myself with nothing in particular, so Bousset could adjust his pants.

"Joly's away with his father for the weekend, and I lost my key to his place." That didn't surprise me. "And Musichetta's sisters are visiting her for a couple of weeks, so I'm not really supposed to be there."

"Doesn't she have a key to Joly's?" I asked as I picked a book off the shelf.

"Hers was the key I lost." He grunted. I turned back around after he cleared his throat. "Enjolras said you wouldn't mind. I wanted to ask you, but he reminded me that he was master of the house." Bousset's lips twitched upwards. "Don't worry: I've never been very good at deflating Enjolras' ego, but I know a head of house when I see one."

I rolled my eyes and opened my mouth to respond, but the bane of my existence could be heard flouncing in with a breeze and a song. I really wish I was kidding, but the poetic sound was completely true. My baby gave an indignant kick. I didn't know if it was from Jean Prouvaire's presence or from the less than wholesome thoughts that popped up at the sight of Enjolras with his cravat loosened and proud neck clearly visible. It was amazing what someone so small could do to my emotions. I rubbed my bump comfortingly. It's not like I could do anything to Enjolras anyway. Not without him freaking about the baby being able to see him and all his glory. Honestly, you didn't need a formal education to realize the stupidity of that statement. Although, Joly had informed me that Enjolras would have to push past a bunch of anatomy for that to be even remotely possible. Pun fully intended. Anyway, if Enjolras caught my frown brought on by his shadow, he ignored it as he walked Prouvaire into the parlor, nodding at Bousset in acknowledgement.

"You just love to make my day, don't you?" I bit, hugging the book to my chest. I couldn't help the outburst. He's saddled me down to his sister while he spent all his days doing God knows what, then he makes Bousset a temporary parasite in our home without consulting me, and now he's gone and brought the little poet in before I've hit the hour of wakefulness mark? I ought to invite Cade over more often. Better yet, I ought to invite Courfeyrac and Marius. They drove him nuts when they were together.

"Don't be dramatic, Eponine." Enjolras shrugged. "Our home is welcome to all our friends."

"You mean, _your _friends."

"I'm not looking for a fight."

"But you keep nudging your way into one."

"Leave it, Eponine."

"Like you left Grantaire in jail last week?"

Enjolras' eyes flashed dangerously, "We talked about this."

"You talked," I huffed. Suddenly his exposed neck was no longer of interest to me. "I tried getting you to shut up."

"Will you please make some coffee?"

"No."

He bristled.

"Why don't you have Elle make the coffee? She seems to be handling everything else you haven't the patience or interest for." I sat down in the chair, crossed my legs and arms, and silently dared Enjolras. Elle was standing stock still in the corner, eyes darting between the power play. This was like a night at the opera for her. "Meals, coffee, Gran-"

"Eponine!"

Prouvaire just about jumped out of his skin, Bousset looked like he may have wet himself a little, but I kept my outward cool. My heart was racing in my chest, but you would have never guessed.

"_Do it yourself_." I hissed, accentuating each syllable.

Enjolras stared me down, the silence in the room was unnerving to say the least, "I'll be in my study."

"Of course you will."

Enjolras straightened out a bit at that, but he ended up ignoring it and walking away from the the impending fight. He left the rest of us in a heavy air, but I'm sure he was more concerned with not letting his cool unravel at the seams.

"Did anyone want coffee?" I asked after a beat.

Bousset raised his hand quickly, but Prouvaire put it down. "We'll make it." He added and led the bald man from the room.

Elle stared at the kitchen door even after it had closed behind them. "I think if Enjolras doesn't marry you, I would quite like to."

I sneered at her.

"I love a good instigator."

"I was not instigating a fight."

"Well, you certainly weren't preventing it."

I moped around the kitchen as the other three enjoyed themselves. Prouvaire was teaching Elle how to weave flowers into her braid without it looking like she had just stuck them in there randomly. Bousset watched them with an intense curiosity. Occasionally he would make some comment that had the three of them clutching their sides with laughter. I stood in the corner, drumming my fingers on the counter, watching them, and trying to decide which room I wanted to retreat to. The only thing I knew for certain was that I did not want to stay in the room with these idiots. Prouvaire was attempting to choke out some story between gasps of laughter when I finally decided to default. All three of them cast glances at me as I left them wiping their tears.

.

"Oh, God!" I clamped my hand over my eyes and turned around to face the hall. "I'm sorry! I didn't think- I thought- I didn't know-"

"Calm down, woman," Grantaire laughed from behind me. "You're sounding dangerously close to a frazzled Enjolras. You can turn back around. Lord knows you know nothing about modestly."

I sent him an ineffective glare over my shoulder before turning fully to him. He was sitting on the sill next to his open window, a cigarette loosely pinched up to his mouth by the tips of his fingers. It would all be well and just if he hadn't been stark naked with a shirtless Feuilly sitting on the other side of the room, staring intently at Grantaire. Well, that does make it sound a bit odd. To be fair, Feuilly's knees were supporting a sketch pad as he memorized the scene in front of him. Taking in the rumpled sheets of Grantaire's bed, I wasn't sure if he'd failed to make it that morning or if he failed to make it before he decided to sit in front of his window in the nude. After having done other nude activities.

"Hi, 'Ponine." Feuilly spared me a grin momentarily before going right back to his sketch pad.

"What's up, kiddo?"

"Uhm-" I glanced over at Feuilly. "I can leave..." I jabbed a finger over towards the door. "If you wanted to keep on doing..." I didn't even know what to say.

"I'm taking an art class." Feuilly said as if that explained everything. Grantaire cleared his throat, and the artist finally gave me more attention. "We're working on live models, and we're supposed to find beauty. People find beauty in home, and Grantaire's homely, so I'm making him into art."

"I don't think you're using the correct definition of homely."

"Of course, homely is not an adjective for home in the sense you're thinking of." Grantaire moved his face from side to side proudly.

"We're using it ironically."

"Irony is beautiful."

"Think of it as a pun."

"I'm a man of puns."

"He's a very punny man."

I rolled my eyes.

"Anyway," Grantaire waved his hand dismissively. "It's not what it looks like. Don't go around blabbing your mouth. Insert more overly used phrases here." Feuilly smirked down at the sketch pad as Grantaire spoke. "What did you need?"

"Apparently more information on your love life."

"Nothing is going on here." Fueilly spat harshly. I blinked at him. "I'm an artist, and Grantaire is my subject."

"It's true." Grantaire nodded. "Now, please, before you break his state of mind: What can I do for you?"

"Prouvaire is here-"

"He's really not that bad, Eponine."

"And Enjolras and I are fighting, I think."

Grantaire turned his face from me to take a long drag from his cigarette. Feuilly coughed to cover up some facial expression.

I frowned. It's not like I wasn't familiar with being outside of the circle with these people. I knew they had their secrets, and I knew that there were secrets they kept that I wouldn't be able to know. This secret, though, I felt like I should have know what was going on. They were obvious enough. Well, clearly not too obvious. I kept a keen eye on Grantaire for a while as he concentrated on inhaling and exhaling, playing tricks with the smoke coming out of his mouth. There was a slight shake to his hands, and he kept fidgeting to grab something that his propped up leg was hiding from me but showing the streets of Paris. Neither of them paid me any mind. Grantaire's fidgeting stopped, and he let his left hand drop against his thigh, still holding the cigarette. His other hand rested on his cheek, held up by his elbow on the other thigh, and he himself looked out at the city spanning before him.

I stood there for a few more seconds. Awkwardly. And wondering what Grantaire saw when he gazed upon the same things as I.

Prouvaire was standing just outside the door when I turned to leave. I couldn't even think of a nasty comment to spit at him.

"There's a garden down the way from my home," He told me softly, staring at me like I was some fragile child. I bristled a bit at that. I wasn't someone easily broken. "I like to help the gardener when I can."

"What are you talking about?" I said after shutting the door before me and frowning at the rough edge my voice had taken on.

"Well, I go and take a few off his hands. Tending to flowers can be tedious, and I just take some so he won't have to worry about them."

His lips quirked up into a smirk, and mine followed suit, "You steal flowers?"

"It's for the greater good."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"He should be taking a break now," Prouvaire's grin threatened to crack his face. "If you're interested in getting some fresh air for a while, I'm interested in taking upon an accomplice."

I considered it, "It would be a shame if everything my father taught me about stealing was left to fade."

"And it's for the greater good."

"I suppose I could use some fresh air."

"Great because they grow the best cacti cours saleya, and I'm confident a bouquet of those in the parlor would bring some peace of mind to your home."

I gave him a weak smile and followed him out the maisonette as he muttered a sonnet or some other kind of poem. Just for a moment, we left the maisonette behind in a sort of calm before the storm type feeling.

**The image of Grantaire sitting at the window smoking is not my own. There's a fic called Apollo that has a similar picture, and someone on tumblr actually drew it out. So my scene is an interpretation of an interpretation of an interpretation. I'll post a link on my profile, and you can revel in how awesome the artist is at life. **

**Grantaire. Grantaire. Grantaire. What's up with him?**


	27. The Drunk

**I'm sorry.**

"Eponine." Elle's voice snapped me out of my reverie. I looked away from the roadkill lying bloody and beaten off the side of the street. "It's dead, there's nothing you can do about it."

"Sorry." I mumbled, rubbing a hand over my bump and moving to catch up with Elle.

We went down to the market to get some herbs for the maisonette. Grantaire had requested some vanilla for his room. So, in turn, Enjolras and I needed chamomile for ours, because the company that Grantaire had been bringing home did not know how to shut their damn mouths. Or at least turn off the volume. Needless to say, we hadn't slept much lately. Enjolras said he was going to talk to Grantaire about not bringing people home so often, but every time he would go to talk to him, Grantaire would scurry away. Elle and I were cleaning out the rooms in the maisonette and found several empty bottles that still reeked of brandy. Apparently Grantaire went running back to the bottle. So Grantaire needed the vanilla to keep his company on high desire, Enjolras and I needed chamomile to sleep, and Elle needed all the other herbs they were selling at the market to deal with the fact she was stuck in this chaotic environment with us. She never stopped telling us how much she'd rather be elsewhere.

"I saw your sister the other day." Elle told me as we climbed the stairs to our door. "She was picking pockets at the market. We saw each other, so I dropped a few coins as I passed her."

"That's very kind of you." I could hardly believe Elle'd have it in her ice chamber to help someone in need.

"And then when I reached the first man on patrol, I told him my pocket had been picked. No idea what happened to her after that."

There's the Elle I remember.

"You ever find out what happened with her and Courfeyrac?" Elle asked. Enjolras glanced up at us as we walked through the parlor. He paused for a moment, contemplating going back to finishing his notes for tonight's meeting or interacting with us.

"'Ponine, you're looking pale." He settled with.

"I'm just tired." I said with a small smile.

Enjolras followed Elle and I into the kitchen, taking the basket from me and setting it on the table. I wasn't sure if we had resolved all our issues. Actually, I know we hadn't, because Grantaire was an issue, and he was still an issue. There was no fixing him, just simply living with him. We were somewhere better, though. I mean, yeah, my hormones were taking us on wild emotional adventures. One minute I'd want to tear his clothes off and the next I'd want to burn them off. But we were happy. Domestic, almost. I kissed his temple and handed him the chamomile, asking him to put it up in our room and then the vanilla in Grantaire's.

"God above!" Elle hissed, grappling for an absent clean cloth and settling for the next best thing. I frowned at the blood seeping through her apron. It seemed too much for just a finger cut.

The rest of us ate at a lethargic pace as Enjolras shovelled the food into his mouth like a man who hadn't had a bite to eat in ages. He was running late, I knew. There were a few things he wanted to touch up on his speech. He probably would have skipped dinner entirely if Elle hadn't threatened to deface all his beloved books. Grantaire took turns drinking from his flask and from the mug on the table that was full of coffee but had been spiked with something else. Whenever he caught Enjolras' judgemental gaze, he would just give him a shit eating grin before bringing the flash to his lips and taking a swig. Elle watched the interaction with an expression I couldn't place. I rubbed my abdomen, massaging. These men's mood swings were a pain in baby's ass.

"I've been conducting some research-"

"No revolution talk at the dinner table, Apollo."

I snapped my attention to Grantaire. Apollo?

"Not about that," Enjolras did some sort of thing with his eyes that would have been an eye roll on normal people. "Combferre's been helping me, really, but it was Courfeyrac's idea."

"About?"

"We've been talking to married folk in the area." Someone dropped their fork, but I was too busy gaping at Enjolras to know who it was. It may have been me.  
>"They seem to be happy."<p>

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Enjolras gazed down at his plate as he cut the chicken. I stole the moment to look at Elle and Grantaire, both were staring at me. "Some are even as young as we and have more than one child."

Grantaire choked on whatever he took a drink of.

"Many people do have families by now."

"Courfeyrac talked to this one couple who's child is older than their marriage," Enjolras said after swallowing the last of his meal. "They told people that they had a quiet wedding ceremony out of the city, so no one questioned if the child was born out of wedlock."

"People," Grantaire's voice was strained, and Elle was watching him like a hawk. "People already know you already know about you."

Enjolras shrugged nonchalantly, "Les Amis but not everyone."

"Right." The drunk whispered, chugging the rest of his flask.

"A boy Elle and I grew up with is now ordained."

Before I even had the chance to respond, Grantaire stumbled up from the table, grabbing his mug and excusing himself. The two siblings and I remained in silence for a few more moments. Enjolras picked at something on the edge of the table, Elle sat stock still, and I just wasn't sure what to do. Should I say yes? Was that even a 'yes'-worthy narrative? I didn't understand how to communicate with Enjolras sometimes, and clearly he had no idea how to communicate outside of empowered speeches.

"I should head over to the Musain." Enjolras scooted his chair in. "Maybe I'll run into Grantaire along the way before he ends up with massive internal bleeding or some other unfortunate event. I frowned. "You should really go lie down." He squeezed my hand. "Don't wait up for me, I can tell you everything tomorrow."

I'd never watched anyone bleed out before. I'd seen my father slit throat, seen Babet to unspeakable things to equally as unspeakable people, and seen more blood than one ought to see at my age. But never had I seen anyone bleed out. Which I had been eternally grateful for. Blood just didn't sit well with me. The thought of it didn't make me squirm like others, but if I had the choice to look at a pool of blood or of water, I'm going to pick the water. There's something foreboding to blood. Something telling, like those ladies down at the docks and alleys who call themselves seers. It was something to trust but something shady at the same time. I didn't care for it. I needed it, but I had no interest in it otherwise. My father liked watching the people he killed bleed. Montparnasse even liked to watch the blood run sometimes, to make sure that his job was completed. He once said it was therapeutic, that all his built up energy was flowed into the darkness along with the blood.

I didn't sleep for a week after that lovely image.

"Eponine." Once again, Elle's voice pulled me back to reality. I blinked up at her. She was all dressed in her nightgown and hair brushed free of curls, but Enjolras was not there, so it couldn't have been much past midnight. At the latest. "Can you hear me?"

"Of course." I mumbled, pressing a hand to my forehead.

"I need you to come with me, okay? I want you to try out some of the things I bought from the market." There was a sweetness to her voice that I'd never heard before. It was so uncharacteristic of Elle. "One cup of that tea and a soak in a bath with those oils will have you floating with God himself."

"Elle, it's late, and I don't feel well." I snapped with no snap and closed my eyes again.

"Get up, Eponine!" She cried, desperation tying itself to every letter. "Get up and come with me."

"Alright," I stared at her wide-eyed. "I'm coming, I will."

Elle pushed the covers away from me feet and grabbed onto my elbow. Panic slowly spread its way through me. All I could think was that something was wrong with Grantaire or with Enjolras. My heart sped up, because if anything ever happened to them, I don't know what I'd do. I don't know what would keep me here if they weren't.

It wasn't them, though.

My head spun when Elle pulled me to my feet, and an odd, residual sensation rearranged itself in my body. Elle had one hand on my elbow still and her other wrapped firmly around my waist, steering me towards the hall.

I yanked away from her and spun towards the direction where my bathroom was located, "If you're waking me up at an ungodly hour to bathe, I'd like-" My eyes found the bed, and the whimper that came from Elle told me she knew it, too.

"Eponine, the bath." She choked out weakly through her silent sobs.

"Elle-"

"A bath."

"I didn't-"

"Eponine! A bath!"

My hands shook furiously as I tried tearing every bit of clothing I was wearing off my body. Just to get it off and away from me.

I was sick.

I was mad.

I was hurt.

I was confused.

I was empty.


	28. Seine

**A grammar check was not run. Lo siento!**

**Clarification: **

**1. Eponine miscarried.**

**2. Elle did not induce this miscarriage directly or indirectly. **

**Disclaimer: Nope**

"Do you want coffee?"

Combferre looked at me with wide eyes, "Do I want coffee?" I nodded. "Do I want..." His voice trailed off, and I pretended not to notice the stern look Enjolras fixed him with. "Coffee, please, that sounds nice." He finished indifferently.

I set to work making more coffee than was necessary. I knew, though, that if Combferre and Enjolras drank some coffee, everyone else who was gracing us with their wasted space would drink coffee, too. It was rational of me to assume this. After all, if Enjolras and Combferre decided it would be a brilliant idea to run and jump into the Seine, the rest of their friends would follow them. I frowned down at the coffee grounds. Each and every one of Les Amis would die just to have the chance to die with Enjolras. For Enjolras. Because of Enjolras. How was that right? They were so young. None of them could have been more than thirty, and they were all so at peace with dying. I bit the inside of my cheek and moved things around the kitchen roughly to keep from crying. I was raised in the slums, so I knew my fair share of bitches; but Death was the biggest bitch of all.

Bigger than Elle. Elle, who had yet to show her bittersweet face this evening, kept to herself the past two weeks. She often dragged Grantaire with her. When I needed him, he was off with _her_. I begged Enjolras to kick them out one night a few days ago, but he just kissed my forehead and pulled me closer so I wouldn't tumble off the couch. I don't even think I was mad at her. Well, irrationally I was. It's not like she did anything to cause it. She just had the unfortunate luck of being the first person I saw after. And, yes, I know it was ridiculous, but I couldn't help but convince myself that she could have prevented it. Somehow. She was here for a reason, right? She clearly wasn't helping Grantaire with his constant intoxication, so surely God put her in my home for another reason. Surely she was supposed to save-

There's nothing she could have done. She's not an angel, and God seems to have abandoned me. Enjolras is going and trying to mess up the order of His universe, so the Lord is punishing us. I think I heard somewhere that God is an eye for an eye type of deity. So everything that happened, happened for some higher reason. Mankind took His Son, so He took-

I probably just started my own heresy with those kind of thoughts.

"...a man who can order us..." Courfeyrac was saying when I brought Combferre a mug. "Pamphlets." He added lamely.

"Do you want coffee?" I asked him.

He didn't bother looking at Enjolras before grinning widely and nodding politely. "You're too good to us, 'Ponine." I shot him a sharp look, and his expression faltered. He glanced over at Jehan, I call him Jehan now, for support or something. The poet paid him no mind. He just sat on the counter, twirling a weed between his this fingers.

Jehan dropped his weed, Combferre choked on his coffee, and I glanced over at the drunk when a bottle shattered. It was belatedly followed by a half-hearted apology from Grantaire.

"No one move!" Joly snapped, scrambling to his feet and all but lunging for a rag to clean it up with.

"I'll go get you another one." I offered. Enjolras pinned Grantaire to his seat with a careful gaze until the drunk was slowly nodding in acceptance of both of us. "Be right back." I smiled at him. He paid attention to me when Elle wasn't around. "Oh."

Of course.

"Sorry," Elle stared at me like deer caught at the end of a barrel. "I was just-"

"Help me pick Grantaire a bottle of wine." I told her.

She watched me hesitantly for a moment before agreeing. Rather reluctantly, might I add.

We walked in silence over to the closet next to Enjolras' study. Normal people used it for more classy things, but Grantaire managed to convince Enjolras to take the door off and use it as a cabinet for all the alcohol. I think Enjolras only agreed to keep Grantaire from running into, and breaking, the wine rack that had been in the kitchen. He would have to try very hard to break this structure. Elle, positive as always, was sure that he would find a way to break it. If there was some small chance that an object could be ruined, she told us Grantaire would find it. I had more faith in my friend. I thought this would hold up. Mostly because I was sure as hell going to make sure Elle was wrong.

"I think you should ask Grantaire to dine with you tomorrow." I said, looking at the bottles but not deciding on one just yet. "I have a gift of seeing what others are too busy to see."

Elle let out a sound that was somewhat of a laugh and just the right amount of a choked sob. I didn't look at her. I just traced my finger over a line of bottles and then pulled back, giving off the appearance that I was invested in choosing the right bottle. Elle and I both knew I didn't care so much about which wine bottle would be great for the drunk.

"We're not compatible." She shook her head. I tensed up when I felt the air shift, as it seemed to do when she was feeling cold towards someone.

"I think you are."

"Yes," Elle mumbled, pulling out a bottle to sniff. "Well, you tend not to see what's right in front of your very eyes." She hissed after we heard some of Les Amis leaving, trying not to slam the door too loud behind them.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I snapped, snatching the bottle from her and shoving it back on the shelf.

"It means your _gift _is a little rusty." Elle bit, yanking another wine bottle down.

"Don't be coy!" I barked.

"Don't be dumb!"

Elle let out a small shriek of surprise when I swatted the wine bottle from her grasp, and it smashed onto the ground. Sending hundreds of little shards in every direction.

"You don't belong here!" I threw at her rudely. "You were asked to come and help Grantaire, and you've obviously failed at that. Just like everything else."

"I've failed?" Elle laughed dryly. She glanced at something over my shoulder. I knew it was the remaining cattle. In an instant, Elle was dangerously close, a sneer distorting her pretty features, "Your world would crash if I failed at what I came to do."

She was in my personal space. So I pushed her back. She needed to know her place. She looked torn between giving it right back, but I knew she wouldn't. It was one thing I could count on with the Durands, they fought with words and looks. They were rather inept at actually raising a fist.

"Elle." Came Enjolras' warning tone from the end of the hall.

I smirked at Elle. She couldn't do anything.

She still put her hands on her hips and raised her chin haughtily. I was a little taken aback, but I refused to show it. Her entire demeanor was making me nervous. I didn't know what she was up to. I didn't know what tricks she had up her sleeves.

"Brother," She said without taking her eyes off of me. "Will you send one of Les Amis to call me a cab? I am feeling quite ready to go home now."

"What?" I snapped my attention to Grantaire as he stammered out the question. "You can't leave me." He added desperately, albeit slurred.

"Grantaire," I frowned. "We've survived without her in the past. You helped me so much in these past months, I can help you." Grantaire stared at me and then glanced at Enjolras before looking back to Bahorel, Combferre, and Jehan. The other three seemed torn between wanting to stay to watch this unfold and leaving to give us our due privacy. "Grantaire." I pleaded quietly.

"R," Combferre laid a hand on Grantaire's shoulder. The drunk startled slightly but fixed his gaze on Enjolras' right hand man. "Why don't you and Eponine take a walk down by the Seine. Clear your heads and hearts."

"Eponine doesn't need to be frolicking about by the river, Combferre." Enjolras told him sharply. "She needs to go up and rest."

"Last time you sent her up to rest didn't work out so well." Elle commented, and Enjolras shot her a look that would kill mere mortals. She, however, didn't even flinch.

"I'm fine, Enjolras." I glared at Elle for a second before moving towards the boys. "Combferre's right."

"He usually is." Bahorel muttered. Another look from Enjolras.

"Yeah, sure." Grantaire said thickly. "We can go for a walk."

We did a lot more walking than talking at the start. Grantaire fidgeted with his hands more than most drunks do. Most of the time he had them shielding the setting sun from his eyes, but other times he was snapping or tapping or some other action that made me want to break his fingers. I'd found myself much more violent that usual lately. Anyway, I let Grantaire lead the way around the streets, sometimes we'd cross through people's yards, other times we'd trample over their flowerbeds. After a while we started searching for flowers to ruin. Jehan would be so upset, but what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him. Me thinking that got me to stop the horseplay Grantaire and I had settled into. We couldn't skip around the carnage. I wanted to know what was going on with him. Why did he seem to need Elle more than he needed me? When had we stopped being able to rely on one another? When did I stop becoming his 'kiddo'?

So when I came to a halt right before a fortunate bed of roses, Grantaire knew what was up. He nodded and jerked his head towards the Seine just around the corner. Once again, I followed him in an uncomfortable silence.

It became too much, though, after another ten or so minutes passed.

"Do you like her more than me?" I choked out. I just had to know.

"What?" Grantaire stopped and frowned at me.

"Elle," I clarified, although I shouldn't have had to. "Do you like her more than you like me? Did I do something to upset you? I know you're sleeping with her, and that probably gives her an edge over me; I need you, though, Grantaire. I needed you, and you haven't been there."

"I'm always at the house."

"No, you're not!" I cried. "Physically, maybe. But you're always so wrapped up in beating your smoking record or downing bottles of wine or fooling around with Feuilly-"

"I am not having sex with him!"

"I lost my baby, Grantaire, and you weren't there." I tried swallowing the lump in my throat, but it seemed like it was there to stay. Grantaire just stared blankly at me, and his complete lack of emotion had the tears burning at the back of my eyes. "I feel empty, like a part of me is missing. The best thing that's ever happened to me had been taken from me by God or whoever the hell thought it would be some kind of sick joke to play." Grantaire flinched when I clamped my hand over my mouth to muffle a sob. "I can't even look at Enjolras for more than a passing second, because-"

I paused for the sobs to have their way for the moment, and I tried not to think how Grantaire just stood and watched me.

"I didn't think you wanted me." Grantaire said it so softly that I almost didn't hear it over my own sounds.

I stopped immediately, though, held still just in case he planned on continuing.

"I'm not sleeping with Elle, she's nothing more than a friend to me. I don't think I've ever really loved her in a way a man ought to love a woman; things with her were just convenient. It's him, Eponine, it's him." I froze and kept my eyes on Grantaire as he started to fidget again. "Elle is just a confidant, helps me think of other things."

"Enjolras."

"Like which wine tastes better at the bottom of the bottle or how many cigarettes can I smoke before I feel like a log." He pursed his lips as he looked me over, probably trying to decide if I was going to throttle him or not. "I have many vices, but I won't destroy another man's virtue with them."

"He's why you're at the meetings."

"He's why all the men are at the meetings." Grantaire corrected me. "I just have different reasons for staying."

"You're a friend to him."

"I'm well aware of my place." He didn't say it rudely, just tiredly.

Grantaire took a step back when I took one towards him. I rolled my eyes, but I couldn't really blame him. Maybe if the situation was different and was a year ago, I would have cleaned his clock for saying something so bold. Things are different, though. While this...revelation...wasn't ideal or wanted, it wasn't something to go and harm him over. I trusted Grantaire with my life. Surely I could trust him with my feelings. So I grabbed the sleeve of his coat and latched myself onto him in a tight embrace. He didn't return it, just stood stock still. As if I was going to take advantage of the position to manhandle him into the Seine. But when I didn't move, he hesitantly returned the embrace. And that was all it took for the tears that had been pent up for the last two weeks to come rushing out.

**I know this was short; I'm sorry. I just wanted to get something out before the next two weeks happen.**

**Anywhoooo, obviously Eponine isn't going to be shits and giggles about the situation, but I have some ideas of how she'll deal. And I have fun Eponine/Elle and Eponine/Enjolras interactions. And more Azelma!**


	29. Grantaires

**So sorry! I know, I know, it's been a long time. This isn't extremely long, but I wanted to give you guys something for being so awesome! Because seriously, you're the best. **

**Warning: Google Translated some Latin towards the end. Fair warning. English translation is at the bottom. Also, not much e/E in this. Bare minimum, if that. Lo siento.  
><strong>

**Enjoy!**

Another night on opposite sides of the bed. I stared at the wall across from me, listening to Enjolras breath, listening to the sounds of bar crawlers finding their way home, listening for Grantaire to come home, listening for anything that kept me from noticing the seemingly permanent cold spot in the bed. Enjolras rarely breathed any way but even. Even when he was upset or excited, I hardly ever knew him to let out his breathes rapidly or slowly. So the past couple weeks, I had taken to listening to that instead of thinking about how Enjolras felt about me, how Grantaire felt about Enjolras, or how I felt about what my life had become. Most nights I was quite content to listen to Enjolras breath, because as long as I was listening to him breath, it meant I was allowed to. And having that invitation was a grace. I knew of many people who questioned whether or not that man beside me was even human. I had the honor of knowing that he was human. Other nights, though, I found myself wishing for the company of someone, anyone, who would warm that spot in the middle of the bed.

I should have been more cautious with my wishing. The sun was barely ready to rise, just enough to lighten the black sky. However, no later than five minutes after hearing Grantaire shut the front door at this asinine hour, I felt him plop himself face down between me and Enjolras. Occupying the cold spot. I couldn't help but laugh. Grantaire nuzzled his face into the spot between my pillow and Enjolras' pillow as Enjolras snapped something. It was incoherent, muffled by sleep and Grantaire's content mumbling.

"What are you doing, you fool?" I laughed, effectively woken up.

"Napping." Grantaire replied. I could see the grin pulling at the corner of his mouth that was visible.

"Go to your own bed, Grantaire." Enjolras bit. Grantaire shouldn't take his cold tone personally. Enjolras doesn't even like being woke up to a warm heat on his-

"Head."

Enjolras turned his head to frown at me as if I understood what the drunk meant. Well, I mean, I did.

"His head hurts." I told the dark haired man with an even darker scowl. "The sun pours directly into his room when it rises, and since Jehan is borrowing his curtains, the sun will only worsen Grantaire's headache."

"Hangover." Enjolras corrected, sending a glance down at Grantaire's arm as it draped over my abdomen.

"Screw you, bastard." Grantaire spat harmlessly. "I'm just as drunk as you are."

Enjolras glared at Grantaire before pushing himself off the bed with a huff. "Fine." He grunted. "You stay, but I'm going. I have things to get done today, and I may as well start over if my girlfriend's second boyfriend is going to infiltrate our bed."

"Well," Grantaire pulled the sheet over his body as Enjolras grabbed a set of clothes. "It's not like you weren't making proper use of the bed and warm body." I could hear the smirk in his voice as he glued his front to my back. Cuddling like we had, once upon a time.

Later that day, Combeferre had taken the brooding Enjolras off my hands. All he did was come by and say that some general was asking about Enjolras, and then the two of them took off like the house was on fire. Grantaire watched them intently, and for a second he looked like he was going to join them, but then Elle walked in with several baskets from the market, and his eyes found a bottle of wine. We had wine, and the guys didn't. It shouldn't be hard to guess where Grantaire was spending his day.

"I know we're not supposed to bring home strays, but I found one in an alley and figured I needed to get at least one good deed in before the year ends." Elle told me as she set the baskets on the coffee table. I looked up from reading the margin notes in one of Enjolras' books to see Azelma standing awkwardly in Elle's shadow as Grantaire dug through the baskets in search for more goodies. "And she kept pestering me."

"'Zel!" I pulled my sister into a tight hug. It was returned tenfold.

"Oh, 'Ponine," Azelma pulled away. "I heard about-"

"You picked a good day to be a little rodent." Elle interrupted Azelma. I shot her a grateful look, but Azelma just sneered. "We get so extremely bored around here, so we planned something fun to do."

"Fun is relative."

Elle smirked, "While the men you service may appreciate a quick tongue, I don't. I'll cut it out."

"I am not a whore."

"Well, now, I'm not accusing anyone of anything."

"You were just suggesting that I whore around."

"That's kind of an insulting word to throw about with your sister sitting here, isn't it? Cold reminder that you're the favorite."

"Now, ladies," Grantaire cut in. "As much as I love a good cat fight, I love your lovely unharmed faces even more. Elle, love, do you really want a street urchin to inflict bodily harm upon you?" Elle stayed quiet, so Grantaire pecked her cheek. "And, 'Zelma, is this spoilt brat really worth getting riled over?" He should have left it there, but he had to pet his own ego. "Besides, didn't this petty rivalry start over your attraction to me?" He shot them both a beaming smile. Elle rolled her eyes, and Azelma stared at him like she was waiting for the punchline. "I'm off the market, ladies. This war can stop."

Azelma huffed, "Don't flatter yourself."

"I needn't." Grantaire smiled.

Both of them regarded the drunk seriously for a moment before Azelma finally spoke, "What was I so lucky to stumble in upon, Mademoiselle?" I was proud and surprised at the lack of sarcasm hanging from the question. Well, at least it wasn't too prominent.

"We have special guests coming over for dinner." Elle almost smiled. "It's a surprise."

"For whom?"

"Enjolras." I smirked.

"Won't that make him mad?"

"What doesn't make him mad?" Grantaire snorted before leaving into the kitchen and reentering with a wine glass in hand.

"France." Azelma offered.

"No, she is the worst of us all." Grantaire plopped unceremoniously into the armchair, kicking his feet up on the coffee table. Elle poured herself a glass of wine, leaving Grantaire the bottle. "His love for her makes him so mad, because somewhere deep in that blissfully idealistic head of his, he knows that he can't ever change her. And it's his desire to prove himself wrong that has him so hellbent on 'freeing' France. Really, his just completely pissed off at his Patria, but he keeps telling everyone he loves her, because he doesn't want to admit defeat to old Grantaire."

"It would appear you have some stiff competition, 'Ponine."

I snorted, "Don't remind me."

"So this is your justification for inviting people over unannounced?" Azelma looked at us all like she was a little concerned about our mental state. You try dealing with Enjolras on a day-to-day basis. Heaven knows I care so deeply about him, but Dear God, can the man run riot through here. And he uses minimal emotion to do it.

"Don't tell me you wouldn't like to get on the chance to ruffle his feathers." Elle watched Azelma carefully from over her wine glass. "Enjolras is in need of some serious preening, and Eponine and I just want to remind him he needs to shake a few feathers off first." Azelma looked at me, and I nodded in affirmation.

"What about him?" Azelma jerked her head towards Grantaire.

"I just love it when he gets all hot and bothered."

I shot Grantaire a glare, but if he saw it, he ignored me.

Azelma was in. Of course Azelma was in. It hardly took any longer to convince her before Elle was dragging Azelma away to bathe and clothe her. Azelma really did pick a great day to pester Elle. Obviously Grantaire disappeared into the kitchen with the wine bottles Elle had picked up from the market. Leaving me alone while everyone was off doing their own thing. I stared in the direction Azelma and Elle had headed before hauling myself out of my spot and joining them in the room Elle was temporarily staying in.

The two of them were so different, but so alike in many senses. It's probably why they didn't get along. Or part of the reason. Physically speaking, Elle had the womanly curves where Azelma was flat. Elle had the long, soft hair perfectly curled and swept partially in pins. Azelma had tangles and dirt coating her locks. Elle looked like she belonged on someone's arm. Azelma looked like she had just literally yanked someone's arm off. They both stood tall, though. Regardless of what each had overcome or was going through now, they both stood as if they could conquer anything. The way they walked told the room they were in charge. The way the talked, depending on the person, could be the most comforting words anyone had ever heard or could tear them to shreds. They apparently had the same taste in men. The more I though about it, the more I was convinced they were essentially the same person. They were just two separate classes, and I was their middle ground.

Elle laughed at something Azelma said, and I could see the corners of my sister's mouth twitching. As if she was deciding if it was appropriate to indulge Elle's humor. Her expression turned into an amused smirk before she pointed something out in the water that was still milling from the bathe Elle took this morning. Elle laughed again, and Azelma hid a chuckle behind her hand. I frowned as a wave of jealousy washed over me. What was wrong with me? I rolled my eyes and pulled myself up. Get it together, Thenardier.

"Who's coming over for dinner?" Azelma asked as she lowered herself into the water. The heat of the summer was the only thing keeping that warm.

"Grantaire's family." Elle said as she poked through her soaps and oils. "He said Enjolras has shied away from them ever since he moved out-make sure you scrub real well-and promised dinner would be a show."

"You've never met them?"

"Why would I meet Grantaire's family?" Elle laughed.

"You two were an item, weren't you?" Azelma frowned at her.

"I wasn't exactly begging him to make me an unavailable woman." Elle rolled her eyes.

"Things didn't work out with Courfeyrac and me." Azelma stared dejectedly down at the darkening bath water. "He wasn't begging to make me an unavailable woman either."

"Oh, sweetie," Elle clicked her tongue patronizingly. "I don't think the Lord Himself would be able to convince that boy to make any poor soul an honest woman."

"EPONINE, THE DOOR!" Grantaire bellowed from the kitchen.

Elle snorted, the most unladylike thing I have ever seen her do, "Of course the fool can't get it."

"Of course not," I told him, pushing myself off the counter where I had been sitting, "all that alcohol settles in his ass."

"I thought he cut back?" Azelma turned her head when Grantaire called for me again, closer this time.

"Men hardly stay away from their vices for too long." Elle told Azelma as she snatched the scrub brush from Azelma and did the work herself. "'Ponine, will you grab a bottle of something from the bottom row of the liquor cabinet? Your sister's going to need it when I brush her hair out." Azelma cringed as I nodded.

Grantaire was sitting in the armchair with his legs propped up again when I passed the room. He gave me a shit eating grin and raised his bottle in toast to me. I shook my head and sent a rude gesture his way before straightening out my skirts. It was probably just one of those dumb cattle coming to waste his day away with Grantaire. I should have been forwarned that moving into this house with Enjolras meant moving in with all Les Amis. I swear, at least one of them was here at all times. Even when Enjolras and Grantaire were out, one would be here. Drinking my wine, eating my foor, sleeping on my couch. I didn't understand. It drove Elle crazy. And it drove me crazy that she was the only one who understood my pain. I couldn't even hate her because I needed her. Life as I knew it was tumbling to the ground.

Two women were standing outside my door when I threw it open. The younger of the two was an exotic beauty. She had long dark hair that cascaded over her shoulders in perfectly without pins holding it back or anything preventing it from being orderly. Her eyes were so dark, they were almost black. I would have thought they were black had it not been for the speckles of gold that were so captivating to look at. Her skin wasn't as dark Bousset's, but there was some kind of glow to her that wasn't strictly from being exposed to the sun for a long period of time. She was truly and wonderfully exotic. Honestly, I'd risk my tongue to admit she was more beautiful than Elle. The other woman, an older woman, was a tall and lanky thing. Her hair was twisted and pinned to the nape of her neck, but wisps of hair had broken free and were framing her slender face. She smiled at me, and her face crinkled with laugh lines. It was so odd looking at her. I tried pinpointing the last place I could have seen her, but it was beyond me.

Her speaking, though was worse that her standing there and me trying to figure out where I knew her from.

_"Et ecce custos hominum auditor vinum in domo domini. Venimus in quaerere de bysso et homines tenuiores etiam vinum. Venimus in praesenti liberari iuvenes Hermes admirabile monologue peterent frequentatio templi Apollinis omnipotens. Ita et hic sumus. Indigenti vini."_

I stared at her. "Uhm."

And then the younger girl started, _"O mater, credo, quod eam filiam fratris Dolos et Dysnomia dixi."_

_"Apollinem dicunt, ut pulchre in Deum,"_ The other answered.

_"An forte simpliciter Gryne." _She snickered in response.

Oh. Hermes. Apollo. Dolos. Dysnomia. And Gryne. Greek mythology. Grantaire.

"You must be Grantaires, please come in." I opened the door more welcomingly. "Grantaire is just down the hall with a bottle of wine."

The two women curtsied and giggled slightly, giving me a cheerful '_Merci!' _before rushing to find Grantaire. Of course Greek rambling in a foreign language that was not Greek would run in his family. I let out a sigh as I shut the door and made my way back down the hall to the three jittering in excitement, speaking perfect French. I had to say, though, I was even more excited for dinner that I had been.

**Please review! Even if it's just to say hi!**

**Here is the translatin of the Latin Grantaire's mom and sister volleyed:**

"And behold: The keeper of the men, the bearer of the wine, and the master of the house. We come in search of fine men and even finer wine. We came the moment young Hermes delivered his marvelous monologue to request of attendance at the temple of almighty Apollo. And so we are here. In need of wine."

"Oh, mother, I do believe her to be the daughter of Dolos and Dysnomia that brother has spoke of."

"A lovely treat for a God like Apollo."

"Or perhaps simply a Gryne."


	30. Gabrielle

**Hi! Thank you all so much for sticking around even though it's kind of veered off of my original plan. I love you all so much and couldn't ask for better supporters!**

**This whole Grantaires/dinner thing is getting a date. It's a big-ish jump.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own anything:/**

_Thursday: 4 August 1831  
><em>

I twisted my fingers together, watching the way the action played with the color of them, as I waited outside the front door for Enjolras to come home from whatever mission he was out on. I wasn't admitting to the wrongness I may or may not have partaken in with Elle and Grantaire by inviting Grantaire's mother and sister over. It wasn't that I didn't like them. They were great people, so funny. I appreciated their sharp tongues and unique brand of humor. Enjolras, however, would probably not find them as entertaining as the rest of us. So, out of the kindness of my heart, I thought it was best to warn him before he walked in. And, you know, if need be, beg for forgiveness.

I was out there for a good ten minutes before I heard Courfeyrac's roaring laughter coming up the stairs. He was flanking Enjolras and Combeferre, both of whom were looking to be in decidedly good spirits. I could have let out a sigh of relief. It was much easier breaking news to him when he wasn't a flaming ball of hellfire like usual.

"Eponine?" Enjolras cocked his head to the side as I greeted him with a peck.

"And mine, 'Ponine?" Courfeyrac asked with a goofy grin on his face.

I spared him a glance but otherwise ignored him in favor of taking Enjolras hands. "I just wanted to let you know how much I care for you. Truly, you have been so good to me, and I can't imagine my life without you." He quirked an eyebrow at me. Maybe I was giving too much too quickly. "And I know that if our child had been born, you would have been a caring, considerate, understanding, and gentle father. And forgiving." Why would I go lightly? I never went light on anything.

"The hall is not the proper setting for romantic revelations, children." Courfeyrac snickered.

"I appreciate all this, I do, believe me, but-" Enjolras took his hands back and made to move towards the door until I, not so subtly, planted myself in the frame, blocking his entrance. "Eponine..."

"I invited people over for dinner." I spat out.

"That's fine?" He frowned at me. "Should we not be in there socializing, then? Lord knows we shouldn't leave them unattended with Grantaire and Elle."

"Yeah." I mumbled as he pried me away from the door. I hopelessly followed him into the maisonette. "Just remember all the good things I said, will you?" I added, peeking over his shoulder.

Enjolras came to a halting stop when he reached the parlor and his eyes found our guests. Well, he couldn't say I hadn't warned him. All three Grantaires had been in the middle of reenacting something that had happened in one of their travels. Elle and Azelma were perched on the arms of Grantaire's usual chair, laughing and tightly clutching their wine glasses to prevent them from falling. Courfeyrac let out an odd noise and hurried over to Grantaire's mother, enveloping her in a tight hug. Combeferre, in all his stoic glory, was having a hard time keeping an expression of amusement off his normally controlled face at Enjolras' clear discomfort. I patted Enjolras' arm sympathetically before going back to my spot on the couch.

"Enjy!" Grantaire's mother cried gleefully. "My darling, I haven't seen hair or hide of you in ages!" I thought I was going to die when she pinched his cheeks. It may have been the single greatest thing I had ever bore witness to, because Enjolras just sat there and took it. It was several kinds of brilliant. I wondered what he was like with his grandmothers. "Oh, sweet angel," She cooed, looking thoughtfully at him, "you're getting a little thick around the middle. Have you been eating Grantaire's portions again?"

"Enjolras used to go days without a proper meal, so by the time he realized he was hungry, he'd scarf anything down." Grantaire's sister, Vidya, explained.

"And I," Grantaire cut in smugly, "being the fantastic person I am-"

"You mean drunkard." Enjolras bit.

"-allowed him to eat my portions." I grinned at Grantaire. "All the more room for wine."

"Aye!" Grantaire's mother and Vidya cheered.

I think, by far, the Grantaires were the most interesting group of people I had ever met. And that's really saying something when you've been raised by Monsieur and Madame Thenardier. Strange people with even stranger stories came through the Inn all the time, but the Grantaires topped all of that. But they were so pleasantly fantastic, and Grantaire's mother is the only person I know to have pinched Enjolras' cheeks like he was a little boy. The three of them alone had all these stories from travelling around the continent, from travelling through the city, and even just from travelling from one room to the next. They found humor and jest in everything, and each of them was more cynical than the next.

Gabrielle, Grantaire's mother, was the most eloquent of the three; I could listen to her talk for hours. She oozed emotion. You could tell what she was thinking just by looking at her, and you could feel what she felt with every breath she took. When she got going on some spiel or another about anything, she reminded me so much of Enjolras whenever he talked about his damned revolution. I couldn't help but think that maybe some of his techniques had been picked up by interacting with this woman. Gabrielle was definitely one of my favorite people. If not by the way she talked with such passion and fury, then by the way she had Enjolras blushing when she told us about how she used to scrub him down in his first year of university when he would pass out from lack of sleep and food while trying to convince street urchins he was right. Enjolras grumbled something about it only happening once, to which Combeferre and Courfeyrac happily added "per month".

When Grantaire was a baby, his father had left Paris on the first ship he could find heading West. Neither Gabrielle nor Grantaire had any hesitance talking about the event, and they didn't seem to have one bad word to say about the man. Gabrielle did call him a few choice words, but they had the three Grantaires howling with laughter and making comments about the state of society (which also had Enjolras scowling into his mug of coffee). If anything, Grantaire's biological father leaving was a blessing in disguise for them. The unexpected flight had them scrambling for money, and even put them on the street for a couple months, before Gabrielle ran into an old friend who was in need of an extra body to take out East for financial reasons. Gabrielle had told her friend that if they could fit in an extra pint, then he had himself a body.

Emmanuel, the friend, was headed for India for three years to work on an art portfolio inspired by Hindu Gods and Goddesses. Gabrielle said she acquired her love for the arts and unattainable men in India. Grantaire raised his glass in agreeance, but only Elle and I caught the action. Her love of unattainable men, she claimed to be, first and foremost, the wonderful artists who tried to portray their likeness in the Hindu Gods.

"Dionysus knows I tried to find the Gods they saw in themselves." Gabrielle lamented and her children smirked.

The mortal she wanted to be worth of, though, had found affection from a model of one of his own paintings.

"It was an awful first six months for her," Grantaire told us as Vidya kissed Gabrielle's temple fondly. "She stopped getting to know the men-thought-Gods and started with the ever fine Indian wine." He beamed at everyone.

"Did he know you loved him?" Elle asked, running her finger along the base of her forgotten glass.

"Of course he did." Gabrielle laughed lightly. "No mortal is oblivious to woes of the wooers."

Enjolras snorted and rolled his eyes.

"Hush now, Apollo." Grantaire chided. If Enjolras caught the dig, he gave no reaction.

"What happened to him?" Combeferre asked, drawing the attention back to Gabrielle.

"Well," Gabrielle said, "six month later his lady love died giving birth to beautiful little girl. Two years after that we moved back to Paris and fell into this sickeningly sweet family dynamic while I tried to help him raise his daughter and he tried to help me raise my son. At some point, maybe a year or two later, we realized we were crazy about each other and the only thing crazier than loving each other would be getting married. And what are children of Dionysus if not crazy?" She giggled.

"That's adorable." Courfeyrac snickered, popping up next to her to refill his glass of wine.

"Not as adorable as you, my little Monsieur de Courfeyrac." Gabrielle cooed and kissed his cheek.

"No 'de'." He corrected her.

"No 'de'?" She gasped in mock shock. Courfeyrac's grin widened as he offered her a sip from the glass he had just filled. Combeferre looked to Enjolras with raised brows when Gabrielle downed Courfeyrac's glass in one long gulp. Enjolras shook his head at his prized cattle as Grantaire, Vidya, and Courfeyrac cheered at Gabrielle's accomplishment. I really liked these people. "What's inspired this change of name, _mon chou_?"

"Too pretentious." Elle supplied. Gabrielle and Courfeyrac laughed.

"Always the charmer, Elle." Courfeyrac swept by her, with a full glass of wine, and planted a wet kiss at her hairline that had Azelma glaring at the two.

"But essentially."

"I suppose." Courfeyrac laughed again as he settled back onto the ground at Combeferre's feet.

"Where is Monsieur Grantaire?" Combeferre asked politely, gently kicking Courfeyrac with one foot when the man leaned against Combeferre's other leg.

"Up in London wooing some man who thinks he's Zeus reincarnated." Gabrielle said seriously. No one said anything for a moment, but then Grantaire and Vidya were roaring with laughter again. I did have a hard time catching on to their humor sometimes, though. "He thought it was best we not completely soil Enjolras' britches today."

"Oh, but it's so fun." Elle frowned.

"I told him Enjolras wouldn't mind. Enjolras loves people."

"Enjolras loves talking to people." Grantaire said.

"Enjolras loves talking about revolutions." Vidya added. "Oh! Eponine, did Enjolras tell you about the time he tried taking an urchin home the first year of university?"

"Not like that." Enjolras told me when I looked at him.

"Well, see here, Enjolras was convinced that if he got this one girl to see his point of view, he could use her to reach all the street urchins." Vidya explained. "Because apparently one person is a sufficient spokesperson for an entire population of people." Enjolras threw her a glare. "He had spent the entire day forcing people to listen to these ridiculous speeches-"

"I was not forcing them."

"You were grabbing their shoulders, my friend." Grantaire provided.

"-and so nighttime rolls around and he finds this pretty little thing who is more than willing to put herself in his way."

"Oh, Enjolras," I glanced at him.

"She tells him that if he pays her this much money, she'll do whatever he wants."

"Oh, Enjolras."

"So he brings her back home," Vidya says between laughs. "Mind you, the girl has fleas on her fleas. But he takes her into our well kept home and sits her on Mom's nicest couch and tries convincing her. All the while, she's trying to take her clothes off and do what she thinks he brought her back to do. Grantaire and I were watching from the stairs. We went and saved him when he finally realized what she was doing, a good fifteen minutes in. Daddy was hysterical when he found out."

Enjolras' ears were so red that I nearly forgot what they normally looked like. Laughing, though, I squeezed his hand. I'm sure it happened to other people all the time. You know, once in a blue moon. His entire face followed that hue when Vidya went on to say that Emmanuel made Enjolras strip down to his skivvies, clean the entire room, and then run through the house in the nude to get to his bathroom after burning the clothes he had been wearing. Everyone else found it highly amusing, and Elle reminded Enjolras that there was nothing to be ashamed of about the human form.

Gabrielle and Vidya had convinced Grantaire to go home with them for the rest of the weekend. It didn't take much to convince him, truthfully. They were all highly drunk on the wine, and the second the women started spilling Greek references, Grantaire was sold. I didn't understand their lingo much. They were constantly slipping into references of some sort, whether they be on the classics or of events going on elsewhere. But being around them gave me a little better insight on Grantaire. I had always thought it was the alcohol that made him speak in allusions, but I was starting to think that it was his upbringing. Not that it mattered. I loved him all the same, but now there was a back story to him.

"Your hair smells good." Grantaire chuckled as he hugged me tightly at the end of the night. "Don't you dare ever change."

"Soaps?" I giggled, kissing his cheek.

"Persons." He answered and then planted a sloppy kiss on my own cheek. I wiped it off as Gabrielle and Vidya took up places under his arms and lead him away, calling out things to us in Greek.

Elle sighed as she watched them go and then turned to the rest of us with her hands on her hips, "I would like to declare my luck that he did not impregnate me." Enjolras nodded in agreement. "I fear my children would have come out of the womb crying Greek mythology."

"And drunk." Azelma added.

"We dodged a bullet there, little one." Elle grinned at my sister, and Azelma grinned back. I was not going to be able to get used to that. "Combeferre," Combeferre and Courfeyrac looked up from a book Enjolras had shown them earlier. "Will you boys walk Azelma and me back to my flat?"

"Your flat?" Enjolras frowned.

"Yes, my flat. Azelma is going to stay there for tonight. You can't expect her to go back to that God forsaken Inn in the middle of the night, can you?" Elle pinned Enjolras with a look. "Unless you would like to turn your office into a room for the night?"

"If we're going to go, we best get going. I owe people money in that neighborhood, and I'd rather not run into them at this hour, yeah?" Courfeyrac spoke up.

Enjolras stared at them for a bit before submissing, "Alright. My friends," he addressed Combeferre and Courfeyrac, "I'll see you before the meeting tomorrow?"

I retreated to the kitchen after they rest had left, leaving Enjolras to do whatever it is Enjolras does late at night in his office. Plotting to overthrow the government or murder the King or something. There wasn't much to do in the kitchen since Bousset wasn't present tonight, but there was always something that needed wiped down or put away. Sometimes, if I got really bored, I would make complete chaos out of everything and then time myself to see how quick it took me to put things away. I needed to get out more, but now that Azelma's gone and scared Cosette away, female company is limited with only Elle.

Enjolras came in when I was in the middle of emptying the contents of each bottle into a completely different bottle.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Playing with Grantaire's mind." I mumbled, focusing on the current bottle.

"Do you want help?"

I looked over at him with eyebrows raised. Was Enjolras really asking to help with something so frivolous? "Don't you have a revolution to plan or barricade to draw?" I turned back to the bottles in front of me.

"Yes, but I have a woman who is in need of help, too."

"How heroic of you," I scoffed.

"Tell me what to do." He persisted.

I smirked over at him when he came to my side. "Alright." He smiled at me and waited expectantly. "Go fetch a bottle from over there and pour one of the bottles from that group into it. Once that is done, pour something from one of these groups into the empty one." I snickered at the look her gave me. "It's fun. And if you're feeling really bold, you can add a little rum or vodka to one or two of the bottles."

We worked in silence for a little bit. I kept looking over at him and then smiling at the pure look of concentration on his face, like he had worked so hard and was so devoted to this. Mostly I relished the silence because it was comfortable. It was just the two of us, and I liked that. I missed having him around. I miss having him in the same room as me without being cold and asleep. He was really here, though. Really here and participating in something that wasn't political, philosophical, or revolutionary of any sort. Just a simple joke between friends. I voiced this thought, and the corner of his mouth pulled into a half smile while he continued working.

"I thought you wanted space." He said finally.

"Space?" What was it with men and thinking I needed space?

"I did." He went on. "I'm not good at..."

"Emotions." I supplied as soon as he hesitated.

"I like for things to have a reason and an action, but there wasn't any of that. I couldn't start a revolt against or protest against nature, something that is out of my hands." He paused in his spiel and his work. "I should have realized you needed someone."

"I'm not the type of girl who needs someone to be there all the time," I assured him.

"I should have made use of the cold spot on the bed."

I grinned, "I suppose you should have."

"Prehaps we can convince Elle to spend the weekend with your sister." Enjolras said, adding vodka to one of the wine bottles and then taking a small chunk off the top of the cork.

"I wouldn't mind walking around the city either." I said, coming between him and the counter.

He gave me a soft, chaste kiss, one that put butterflies in my stomach and set my heart racing.

"A weekend to ourselves." He whispered against my lips.

I hummed, closing my eyes and leaning into his touch.

"Eponine." Enjolras' breath felt so exhilarating against my lips each time he spoke or pulled back a little in the middle of our kisses. It was a heavenly feeling.

"Hm?"

"I love you."

**I've already outlined the next chapter, but I've already started school, so things are a little hectic. But I'll try and write and post it soon-ish.**

**Please review:)**

**Mad love, homies!**


End file.
